


Holidazed

by Nymphadorable



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Cuddling & Snuggling, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Makeover, Making Love, Making Out, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, One True Pairing, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Slash, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, Switching, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphadorable/pseuds/Nymphadorable
Summary: Christmas Eve has arrived and the gifts beneath their tree are not the only surprises in store for Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers this holiday season.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 18
Kudos: 62
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Holiday Gift Exchange 2019





	1. Bugle Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrel/gifts).



> Azrel, it has been such a gift getting to write this story for you. Bucky and Steve are two of my absolute favorites. Knowing that they are yours as well, I hope you are brought the same amount of joy reading their story as I was writing it. 
> 
> I've also created a playlist on Spotify for you, in celebration of our boys. Here it is for your enjoyment:  
> [Stucky - Remember Me](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/42QHH077xcnMtWPPUVLP19?si=um1U1jdIS22WIaqPvTTc1g)
> 
> Happy Holidays, sweetheart. <3  
> A huge thank you is also in order to [Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum/pseuds/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum) , [OllieMaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllieMaye/pseuds/OllieMaye) , [BrandonStrayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonStrayne/pseuds/BrandonStrayne) , and [Drarryismymuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatchersn/pseuds/Drarryismymuse) for helping me in betaing this fic. You girls are the best and I'd be lost without you.

December 24th, 1941

  
  


Snow drifted down in great swirling plumes outside the four-story, brownstone walk-up. Above the gentle orange glow of Brooklyn's street lamps, it was turning the night sky a pale lavender color and lending a quieting effect to the normally bustling neighborhood. In the late evening hours, while most of the residents were nestled beneath their covers against the chill, dreaming of Santa Claus and red-nosed reindeer, and as large flakes began to collect in the corners of the top floor's sills, the windows of the corner unit's bedroom slowly began to fog. 

Inside, Steve couldn't keep the grin from stretching at the corners of his lips as he watched Bucky's toned ass pumping in relief-seeking rhythm against their quilted coverlet. His broad shoulders shifted as he gripped Steve's hips and his head bobbed up and down between Steve’s thighs, throat tightening around Steve's cock as The Andrew Sisters sang to them about the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B. 

"Fuuuck!" Steve groaned as pleasure rippled through his groin and down his legs, causing his toes to curl. "The Bugle Boy has nothing on you, baby."

He gasped and nearly shot his load as Bucky's moaned reply vibrated around his cock. 

"You'll make me cum!" he panted.

There was a popping noise as Bucky released his cock, rising up on his elbows to give him a scandalous grin. 

"S'kinda the point, stud," he murmured hotly, pressing a kiss which morphed into a gentle bite to the vee of Steve's abdominal muscles before sinking back between his thighs and deep throating his thick cock once more. 

This time words failed Steve, and all he could manage was a series of panting moans as he collapsed back onto their pillows, holding Bucky's head in place and pumping in and out of his heavenly mouth. 

Laying between Steve's thighs, Bucky gingerly ran a knuckle across Steve's testes as he continued to work his mouth up and down his cock. He pressed a little more firmly against the bunch of nerves at their base and delighted at the way Steve squirmed at his touch. His own hips ground against the bed as he rutted his cock against the downy bedding, desperate for release.

Just not until he'd satisfied his Golden Boy. 

Swiping his fingertips over the base of Steve's shaft, he gathered up the wetness which had settled there, smoothed it over his fingers, and gently trailed them along Steve's cleft until they located his pink rosette. If he'd been able to, Bucky would have grinned at the way it pressed eagerly against his touch. As it was, he settled for delighting in the way that his boyfriend's groans had changed in pitch and frequency.

Slowly, he began to massage the puckered star as he continued to work Steve's cock. Bucky waited until he could feel the tension begin to drain from the toned thighs resting against his shoulders and slipped only the barest tip of his middle finger into the center of Steve's hole before drawing it back out to run in circles around its circumference. 

Encouraged by the strangled groan and labored panting that served as Steve's reply, as well as the way his back arched up off the mattress at the teasing of his ass, Bucky began to work Steve's entrance with more insistence. Glancing up, he caught his boyfriend watching his every move: cheeks flushed, lower lip still swollen from where his pearly whites had been biting down only moments earlier, and those gorgeous baby-blues as hooded as they were transfixed. 

Throwing Steve a scandalous wink, Bucky began to thrust his hips against the bed to the exact same rhythm as the finger which he was slowly pumping in and out of Steve's tight little hole. A blush was slowly working its way up Steve's neck and along his jaw, a sure sign that he was close to release, and Bucky knew if he didn't pace himself he would be dragged right over the edge with him. 

So, before the sights and sounds of the man beneath him could set him off, Bucky slid a second finger in beside his first, pressed both of them past the tight ring of muscles he'd only moments before been massaging, and curled them repeatedly into a come-hither motion against the soft ball of nerves that they found there. The result of this prodding was nearly instantaneous. 

"BUCK!" Steve ground out. Jerking forward, he pressed his cock deeper into the back of Bucky's mouth and sunk fingers into Bucky's chocolate hair, the better to hold his head in place as he shot wave after wave of salty cum down his throat. 

Bucky's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled around the thick cock still in his mouth, continuing to suck his boyfriend off as he rode out his orgasm to completion. 

Slowly and shakily, Steve released his hold. Moaning and collapsing back into the bed as his entire body gave way to spasms. His hips practically jerked halfway to the ceiling when, in the process of releasing his cock, Bucky ran the tip of his tongue along the underside of his shaft from root to tip.

"You'll be the death of me," he murmured, speech slightly slurred from exhaustion and euphoria. 

"Ah, but what a way to go," Bucky replied cheekily, and Steve found himself grinning at the sheer cockiness of the statement. 

"Mhmm," he murmured, letting his fingers dance softly back and forth over Bucky's solid shoulder. 

"I'm glad you agree," Bucky murmured as he placed a gentle kiss to the inside of Steve’s right thigh, "because I'm nowhere close to being finished with you...Captain America." The last was said with a husky, velvet quality that had Steve's cock stirring once more. 

Before the words even had a chance to sink in, Bucky was deftly sitting up and kneeling between Steve's legs. Hooking his forearms behind Steve's knees, Bucky fluidly jerked him off of the pile of pillows he'd collapsed upon only moments before so that his ass was resting atop Bucky's solid thighs. 

Leaning down, he kissed Steve roughly, stealing his breath away, before sitting back up, covering his hole with a warm dose of spit, lining the head of his cock up to Steve's entrance, and slowly sinking inside with one deft thrust. 

"Fuck, Stevie..." he moaned. 

Bucky was just barely maintaining control of his overwhelming need for release, when a sudden surge of pleasure fizzed through his veins. Moaning, he gingerly began to rock his hips back and forth, which proved a particular challenge. Struggling against the urge to plunge as deep and hard into Steve as was humanly possible, he tightened his grip on Steve's hips instead and began the agonizingly delicious process of familiarizing their bodies to one another. 

The challenge was made all the more difficult when Steve reached down and began to stroke his own cock. He had already been making these delectable little panting noises between moaning with every one of Bucky's thrusts, and this new image of him was nearly too much to handle. One hand rested atop Steve's abs as though he was attempting to hold himself together, and Bucky couldn't tear his eyes away from Steve's other hand as it squeezed tight around his shaft, head peeking out with each pump, a glistening drop of precum forming at its tip. With every stroke, Steve relaxed a little more until finally his greedy rosette was tightening around Bucky's cock on each withdrawal, as though to draw him deeper the second that he pushed back in. 

"Jesus H. Christ, you're sexy," Bucky murmured, staring hotly down at his boyfriend as he gradually increased the pace with which he made love to him.

Reaching down with his free hand, Steve swiped his thumb over the liquid bead that had collected at the tip of his cock and then brought it up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit and sucking, never breaking eye contact. A startled chuckle burst from Bucky's throat, breathy and dripping with lust.

"So it's like that, is it?" he murmured, transfixed. 

"Mmm," Steve replied. He grinned back cheekily as he continued, "Just like that, Sergeant Barnes."

The teasing taunt chipped away the last bit of his resolve, and Bucky quickly unsheathed his cock from the tight confines of Steve's body, earning an indignant moan from the man beneath him. Repositioning himself, he pulled one of Steve's legs over his shoulder, straddled the other, and, slamming his hips forward roughly, drove his cock all the way to the hilt inside of Steve.

"So fucking tight," he moaned, loving the feel of Steve's hole constricting around his shaft as he began to work it deeper and deeper into Steve's body with each thrust. 

The whimpering, mewling noises Steve made as he roughly rocked back and forth into his body would have panicked Bucky if it weren't for the frenetic pace with which he was stroking his own cock. 

"Slow down, baby," Steve moaned, "otherwise, you'll make me cum again."

"That's supposed to get me to slow down?" Bucky chuckled. 

He leaned down then, nearly pressing Steve's knee to his own shoulder as he kissed him roughly. Slowing down briefly and claiming Steve's mouth, he brushed their tongues against one another, matching pace to his thrusting hips. Pulling back, he looked down into Steve's cornflower eyes, glassy with pleasure, and ran his fingers through Steve's sexily mussed flaxen hair before leaning down and whispering in his ear.

"Not a fucking chance."

Drawing himself back up, Bucky returned to straddling one of Steve's muscular thighs as he held the other in place over his shoulder and wrapped his free palm around Steve's shaft, stroking it as he roughly began to pound in and out of him. 

The rich baritone of their moans weaved through with the staccato rhythm of skin slapping against skin filled their cozy bedroom, and it wasn't long before Steve was crying out, overtaken by his climax. 

_That's it, baby,_ Bucky thought as he watched Steve come undone. He nearly succumbed himself as he watched the flush which had reappeared on Steve's cheeks and neck spread to his chest. Bucky moaned, admiring the way that the taut muscles of Steve's stomach clenched and unclenched as he panted. He savored the feeling of Steve’s cock pulsing in his hand as he continued pumping inside him, smiling when it covered his fingers, as well as Steve’s stomach and chest, in streaks of warm white cum.

Bucky's hips came to a halting stop when, while holding his gaze, Steve first ran his fingers along his midsection, collecting the creamy fluid on them, then brought them up to his lips and licked them clean. The image had Bucky's heart pounding, the pulse of which he could feel all the way down to his aching prick. As he watched, transfixed, Steve pulled Bucky's hand down to his mouth and wrapped his lips around each finger, one after the other, sucking every last drop of cum off of them. 

Bucky didn't even realize that his other hand had slipped from where it held Steve's calf in place over his shoulder until Steve wrapped both legs around his waist and, using his weight as momentum, rolled them over. Laying back, Bucky let Steve mount him. A deep groan escaped his throat as he held tight to Steve's perfect ass while he slowly began rocking his hips, gradually building up speed until he was expertly bouncing up and down on top of Bucky's cock. A familiar tightening began in the pit of Bucky's stomach and spread down through his groin until it settled in his prick and stones.

"Fuck, Stevie... you're gonna make me blow..." he moaned, tilting his hips just right so that he more completely filled his boyfriend with each stroke. 

Steve groaned, rolling his hips and taking as much of Bucky's long, thick cock as possible. 

"God, Buck... come for me... please?" He panted. "Fill me up."

As though Steve's words had thrown a switch, Bucky squeezed his fingers into Steve's hips, holding him still as he thrust his own hips up repeatedly. Pistoning his cock deep into Steve's ass, he gasped, letting out a husky moan and finally allowing his orgasm to overtake him as his sack tightened and his cock spasmed, shooting jets of cum deep into Steve. 

When Bucky's climax had finally peaked, he pulled Steve back down into his arms and repositioned them both so that Steve was once more pressed into the mattress beneath him. Leaning down, he gently parted Steve's lips with his own and coaxed his tongue into a lazy, erotic dance which moved along in time to the measured rocking of his hips, kissing Steve soft and slow as he planted the last few bursts of pleasure inside of him. 

When his pelvis finally stilled and he had gingerly pulled his cock free, Steve pulled Bucky down to lay in the bed beside him, curling up next to him and resting his head on Bucky's shoulder. 

"Sex God," Bucky murmured sleepily and grinned when Steve softly nipped his earlobe in reply.

"Mmmm," he murmured hotly against Bucky's neck. "Keep showering me with compliments like that and you might just find yourself on the receiving end of an early morning fuck."

Bucky groaned and flexed his hips. 

"Is that so?" he asked, glancing down into the summertime sky of his boyfriend's eyes. Delight coursed through his chest at the dimpled grin that Steve gave him in reply, before tilting his chin up for another kiss. When their lips finally parted, a blush was staining Steve's cheeks and he was suddenly the same shy kid that Bucky had first fallen in love with all those years ago. 

"I have to leave you with something to remember me by," Steve murmured, averting his eyes. "So you don't forget me once we've shipped out."

It floored Bucky that Steve could ever doubt, even for one moment, just how much he loved him, and he had to force back the anger that bubbled up at the memory of every person who had ever taunted Steve. 

"Hey," Bucky spoke softly, as though to a scared animal. Tilting his boyfriend's chin up so that their eyes met, he continued softly, "I could never forget you, Stevie. You're my Scarecrow."

A confused smile blossomed on Steve's lips, and he quirked a brow. "Your Scarecrow? Why? Because I used to be skin and bones?"

"No," Bucky replied, gently running his fingers through Steve's silken hair. He smiled at the memory of their first official date to the cinema and his face was the picture of adoration as he continued, "Because, I'll miss you most of all."


	2. Dazed and Confused

December 24th, Present Day 

  
  


Bucky woke with a start, gasping as his eyes shot open and darted around the familiar room, a room which looked startlingly similar to the one of which he'd just been dreaming. Reaching out and checking his phone, he noted the early hour before returning it to his nightstand and relaxing back into his mattress. The sun would be rising soon and the impending arrival of dawn was already tinting his walls a calming blue. 

Closing his eyes, he rubbed them and tried to process the dream from which he'd just been pulled. He and Steve were just friends; best friends, sure, but that's all that they'd ever been. At least... that's what he had thought. Steve had told him as much after rescuing him from the clutches of Hydra.

_So then why did everything look and feel so real?_ _All the way down to Steve's_... Bucky shook his head, still startled by the images racing through it as confusion roiled inside his still groggy mind. _Why isn't it fading?_

Feeling strangely antsy, he turned to roll over onto his stomach and groaned when his previously undiscovered erection pressed insistently against the bed. 

"Fuck!" He moaned, flopping back onto his back before throwing his legs over the side of the bed and sitting up. 

Resting his elbows on his knees, Bucky hung his head and ran his hands through his shoulder-length waves, as if by doing so he could he could wring out the confusion from his mind. _What the hell is going on with you?_ he scolded himself. Was it not enough that shortly after he and Steve had been reunited, he'd developed a schoolboy crush on his best friend and roommate? Why now was he dreaming of them fucking each other? 

_No. Not fucking,_ Bucky thought, startled. _Loving._

The revelation hit him like a bucket of ice water and he shook his head, desperate to clear away the confusing onslaught of emotions that had begun racing through him. In one fluid motion, he stood up and slid off his briefs, kicking them into his laundry hamper, then padded across the room on shaky legs towards his bathroom. Perhaps a shower would help calm him down and clear the cobwebs from his mind. After all, how could he possibly be expected to think rationally while maintaining an erection the size of the Empire State Building?

Entering the bathroom, he grabbed the largest, fluffiest towel he could find and hung it on the warming rack, then approached the shower. Stepping into the ostentatious riverstone and glass masterpiece, he braced himself and twisted the various knobs until streams of icy water came cascading down upon him from various angles. 

Air rushed out of his lungs as the frigid liquid beat down on his head, shoulders and back. But even after spending an eternity under a constant stream of what may as well have been glacial melt, his cock remained painfully hard. Desperate, Bucky began running a mental inventory of as many benign and unsexy things as possible. Auto parts, baseball mitts, candy corn, dandelions, elderly grandmothers, furniture covered in dust... the list went on and on, but to no avail. The moment he stopped focusing on it, the insistent ache resurfaced. 

With a sigh that morphed into a shiver, Bucky gave up on freezing the lust out of his body. Increasing the temperature of the water, his muscles unbunched and he relaxed as the stiffness which had begun to build in his bad shoulder melted away. A few moments later, tentatively, he reached down and palmed his cock. 

The ache that had been resting there grew and spread before settling in his stones and lower stomach, pulling a hoarse groan from his lips. Leaning forward to rest his forehead against the cool stone wall, his eyes locked onto his shaft as he gradually began stroking up and down along it. Pleasure arched through his body, zipping from the base of his neck down to the tips of his toes, and it wasn't long before he was panting and groaning, resting right on the precipice of release. A release that, regardless of his pent up desire, evaded him.

Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes in an attempt to stave off the frustration, but the moment that they closed, cornflower blue ones seemed to pop into his mind. He was startled at first, his hand stilling for a moment, before Steve's gorgeous smile also danced across his consciousness. 

_God, Buck... come for me... please?_ Bucky moaned at the memory, picking up the speed of his strokes as the image of Steve panting and squirming beneath him filled his head. He could practically feel his Golden Boy squeezing his cock with his tight hole. Could see the way Steve's cock bounced and jerked with every thrust, begging to be sucked. Could hear the whimper that escaped his luscious pink lips before he pulled himself up on his elbows, leaned in and quietly begged, _Fill me up._

And then Bucky was crying out, groaning thickly as the memory pulled him over the edge into a climax so strong that it brought him to his knees. His hips jerked as thick streams of cum pulsed onto his stomach and thighs, before being washed away by the warm jets of water that were cascading over him.

He stayed like that, kneeling on the floor of the shower, panting and trembling as he desperately tried to get a grip on himself and over his emotions. He needed to calm down, think rationally and see if there was any way that he could discern what was fantasy and what was reality. 

Standing on unsteady legs, he quickly finished showering and then turned off the water, drying himself off before padding back into his room. Going through his dresser as though on autopilot, he snagged a pair of briefs along with some black joggers and a matching v-neck tee and quickly tossed them on before stepping out into the hallway and gently closing his door. He needed coffee. Everything would be better after a strong cup of coffee. 

As he made his way towards the kitchen, the mouthwatering scent of frying bacon hit his nose at about the same time that Frank Sinatra settled in his ears. Although the hour was still early, Steve must have been awake. Excitement bubbled up in his chest, quickly followed by a nervous sort of apprehension, and Bucky slowed down as he stepped from the hallway into the sunny gold and black kitchen that they shared. 

Standing in front of the range, Steve's back was turned to him, allowing Bucky a few precious moments to admire the man who had infiltrated his dreams. Tall and fit, Steve's honeyed hair was still slightly mussed from sleep and Bucky found himself filled with the familiar urge to reach out and smooth it into place. _How is it that running my fingers through his hair should feel like such a natural conclusion?_ he wondered briefly. Yet still, the compulsion lingered. 

Attempting to push those thoughts aside, he focused instead on what Steve was wearing, smiling as he recognized the blue silk robe and pajama bottoms he'd given him as a gift last Christmas. At the time, he knew that he probably shouldn't be buying his roommate such an ostentatious and intimate gift, but the soft fabric perfectly matched Steve's eyes, and a warm rush of emotion wrapped its way around Bucky's ribcage at the memory of how unexpectedly delighted he had been with the gift. 

They looked even better on Steve than he'd imagined when he'd bought them and Bucky let his gaze wander, following the broad set of Steve's shoulders down to his trim waist, before landing on his perfectly round bubble butt. His eyes lingered there and a flush crept along his cheekbones as he imagined bending Steve over the countertop, pulling the silk down his muscular thighs, and slamming into his tight little...

Bucky must have made some sort of sound as he fantasized because suddenly Steve turned around and the memory that slammed into Bucky stole his breath away. They were standing in a different, but similar, kitchen and Steve had turned to face him with a beautiful smile stretching across his handsome face as he held out a wooden spoon covered in a thick red sauce. _Come here, Buck,_ Steve coaxed him. _Tell me if this needs anything._ Just as quickly as the memory had flitted into his mind it had ended, and Bucky was left standing shell-shocked as his heart attempted to slam its way out of his chest. 

_What's happening to me?_ he thought frantically, practically shaking as he attempted to calm down.

"Bucky?" Steve spoke softly, concern evident in his voice. "Are you okay?"

As his surroundings settled back into place around him, Bucky blushed and nodded, shyly reaching out to take the mug that Steve had been offering. He tried and failed to keep his eyes from roaming over Steve's bare chest and stomach, lingering on the tanned skin and golden happy trail that dipped below his low-slung pajama bottoms and were peeking out from beneath the loosely tied garment. 

"Yeah. I'm sorry," he murmured. "I am just a little tired. Strange dreams last night."

Steve was watching him closely and a warm feeling spread through Bucky's chest at the worry behind those lovely eyes. Seeming to decide not to push the subject, a trace of disappointment ghosted over Steve's handsome features and he began to turn back towards the stove. 

He halted in his tracks and looked as though he might faint when Bucky took a sip of his coffee, moaned happily in delight as he closed his eyes and, without a second thought, said, "Thank you, Stevie." 

The spatula Steve had been holding clattered to the floor and his eyes were as big as saucers as he searched Bucky's face. "Stevie?" he spoke, voice barely a whisper.

The flush that tinted Bucky's cheeks deepened and he found himself unable to pull his gaze away from Steve's as he mumbled an embarrassed reply. 

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I didn't mean to upset you... I won't call you that if you don't want me to."

"No! Please, don't stop!" Steve almost shouted in response. His own cheeks deepened to a soft pink and he cleared his throat, regaining control and lowering his voice before he softly continued, "I like it. It's what you used to call me. Before the war."

Steve's eyes had gone wide, searching for something in Bucky's, and Bucky's in turn searched his. Standing there, toe to toe, Bucky instinctively reached up and smoothed down the cowlick which always adorably poked up above Steve's left temple in the mornings. 

"What else did I used call you?" he whispered, eyes transfixed as the little pink tip of Steve's tongue swiped across his full lower lip. "What did you call me?"

Steve was leaning back against the countertop now and, without even realizing it, Bucky had set down his mug and stood with both hands gripping the granite on either side of Steve's hips, caging him in. He could smell the spicy pine and tonka bean body wash that Steve used and that, mixed with the delicious scent of coffee still clinging to his lips, was weakening Bucky's resolve. 

_Say, Scarecrow, Stevie,_ he thought. His eyes practically begging, _Please say you were my Golden Boy._

His heart was beating so loudly in his chest that Bucky was certain Steve would hear it, and he felt an incredible surge of excitement when he caught the way Steve's pulse was racing in his neck as well. There was a moment of vulnerability that passed across Steve's eyes and Bucky's heart soared with hope as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Buck..." Stevie murmured, eyes soft with affection, and then suddenly a flash of pain.

Panic surged through Bucky's veins and he watched in horror as Steve shut his eyes, squeezing them as if in pain. With a flush staining his cheeks, he gently murmured, "I can't recall. After all, it was so long ago."

But the lie was written across his face as plain as day. Bucky hadn't been dreaming. There **_had_ ** been something between them. He could feel it down deep in his bones. And here Steve stood, looking for all the world as though the only thing he wanted was to collapse into his arms, but refusing to admit a thing. 

Hurt briefly squeezed around Bucky's heart, mixing with the familiar rage he suffered at not being able to remember his life before Hydra, and for a moment tears threatened to spill over his cheeks. But then he froze, replaying Steve's words in his mind. 

_Buck..._

Stevie had called him Buck; probably hadn't even realized he'd done it. But there it was, hanging heavy in the air between them. The name he'd only ever used in Bucky's dream. And suddenly, hope didn't seem such a foolish prospect after all. 


	3. Memory Lane

Bucky was just opening his mouth to press back against Steve's denial when the sound of the front door unlocking and swinging open rang through the apartment, followed by Clint's chipper voice as it rang out with a, "Season's Greetings, guys!"

"I hope that everyone has their clothes on!" Nat ribbed good-naturedly just behind him. 

Steve's eyes went wide, his cheeks darkening at the taunt, and the combination of the two sent another jolt of hope careening through Bucky's chest. 

Even though the sound of their two friends playfully bickering back and forth was getting louder and louder as they made their way down the hallway and towards the kitchen, Bucky leaned in, lips brushing against Stevie's earlobe as he dropped his voice into a husky whisper and quietly murmured, "We will finish this discussion later."

_ And change the locks,  _ he thought to himself, cursing the fact that he'd agreed to give Nat a spare key. Stepping back, his hips came to rest against the island opposite from where Steve was standing, and Bucky crossed his arms over his chest just as Clint and Nat turned the corner into their kitchen. 

"Hey you two," came Clint's chipper greeting but his smile faltered as his eyes darted back and forth between them, unable to ignore the tense atmosphere that was filling the room. "Is everything okay? Do you want us to come back later?"

"No!" Steve half shouted, cheeks turning pink as he cleared his throat and lowered his voice to a normal register. "Everything's great. Isn't it, Buck?"

_ There it is again, _ Bucky thought to himself,  _ that nickname.  _

Both Clint and Nat glanced over to Bucky at the mention of his name and it was clear by the heated way he was watching Steve that, contrary to their friend's denial, they had walked into the middle of an intense exchange. Bucky had just opened his mouth as though to reply when Steve let out a nervous chuckle, effectively cutting him off. 

"Sorry about the pajamas. I was just about to go get dressed when you two walked in," Steve babbled nervously, throwing on an overly bright smile as he looked between their two friends. "Could I get either of you some coffee while you wait?"

There was an awkward pause as Clint looked suspiciously back and forth between Steve and Bucky before Nat elbowed him in the ribs and gave Steve a megawatt smile of her own. 

"Coffee would be great! It smells wonderful!"

"Right," Clint agreed. But he still wore a look of open curiosity as he continued, "I would also love a cup, as long as your offering."

"Perfect," Steve murmured. But as he moved to turn in the direction of the cupboard which held their mugs, he stepped onto the forgotten spatula, slipping and letting out a startled yelp.

With cat-like reflexes, Bucky jumped into action, closing the couple of feet between them and reaching out to catch Steve before he was able to fall. A rush of adrenaline surged through his veins when Steve instinctively reached out and clung to his shoulders. Curling his hands around Steve's waist, Bucky steadied him and gently guided him back so that he was pressed against the cabinets. Then, placing one palm on the countertop beside Steve's hip to steady himself, Bucky knelt down in front of him to grab the problematic utensil. As his fingers wrapped around the wooden handle, Steve let out the faintest gasp. 

The intake of breath was soft enough that if he hadn't been so close, Bucky might not have heard it, but as it was, he had, and his eyes slowly skimmed up Steve's legs to the semi which had begun to peak in his silk pajamas. He could see every perfect line and ridge of Steve's cock and his knuckles whitened around the spatula as he tamped down on the urge to moan at the mental picture of having his lips wrapped around it. Although brief, the memory had a flush rising in his cheeks and he stood shakily before he did something stupid like throwing Steve over his shoulder and carrying him off into what should have been their room. Why had he gotten Steve those fucking pajamas? 

Avoiding Steve's gaze, Bucky rose up to his full height and placed the soiled spatula into their sink before maneuvering around Steve with one hand splayed gently across his waist and reaching into the cupboard behind him. He grabbed two mugs and, finally allowing himself to look into his Golden Boy's baby blues, placed them lightly onto the countertop beside him. 

"Careful," Bucky said softly, his voice filled with earnest concern. 

There was a beat where they both just stood and stared at one another, drinking each other in, and then Steve flushed and cast his eyes down to the floor. Bucky wished that he was able to read Steve's mind, wished he could know what images were spinning through Steve's brain and if they were anything like the ones tumbling through his own. But he couldn't, and so he cleared his throat, grabbed the two mugs from where he'd placed them on the counter and moved over to their coffee maker, putting some much needed distance between them. 

"You go on and get dressed, Stevie," he said, voice thick with emotion as he picked up the carafe and began pouring the steaming black liquid. There was a tremor in his hands as he continued, "I'll take care of Clint and Nat."

A tense silence followed, then out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve nod. 

"Right," Steve murmured and, with his voice a little stronger, addressed their friends. "I won't be but a minute."

"Take your time," Nat said and after a beat Clint piped up as well. 

"Yeah. Take as much time as you need, man."

Bucky could feel Steve's gaze as it lingered on him before he cleared his throat, nodding once more, and padded softly out of the kitchen towards his bedroom, leaving Bucky to stare down into two steaming mugs of coffee as he wished, yet again, that he could remember something, anything, meaningful about his—and now their—lives before Hydra. 

Even so, as the image of Stevie curled up against his chest settled into his consciousness, a smile pulled at his lips and he knew that wish was beginning to come true. 

"Are you alright?" The question came softly from behind his back and Bucky jumped at the unexpected touch on his shoulder. 

"Sorry," Nat murmured, pulling her hand away as he turned around to face her. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. No need to apologize," he said, pinking under her scrutiny. He flushed even deeper as he realized that he was holding out a coffee to her in the exact same way that Stevie had held one out to him only a few minutes earlier. 

Reaching out, Nat took the mug from him and tilted her head, her look of worry deepening.

"I'm fine, Nat," he promised, walking past her to offer Clint his coffee. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

"Trouble sleeping, huh?" A mischievous smile tilted up Clint's lips at the corners and he wiggled his brows as Bucky passed him the mug. "And why, pray tell, might that be?"

Ignoring the obviously suggestive tone of Clint's question, Bucky crossed over to the refrigerator and pulled out their half and half, softly murmuring, "Strange dreams."

___

Steve paced frantically back and forth in his room, wringing his fingers through his hair and trying, but failing, to slow down the pounding of his heart as guilt roiled in his stomach. He had spent a truly incredible amount of time building up walls around his heart for Bucky's protection. He dedicated himself to never telling Bucky about their history, because that would be taking advantage of his memory loss. He would learn how to find happiness, or at least something close to it, in just being friends—because being friends was better than nothing at all. And now here he found himself, in the middle of a shame spiral as memory after memory crashed over him. Fantasizing about what it would feel like to have Bucky's lips wrapped around his cock or to feel Bucky pounding inside of him, and attempting but failing to fight off a massive erection as Bucky, Nat and Clint waited on him in the kitchen. All because of a fucking nickname. 

_ It's not just a nickname—he knows, he wants to give us another shot,  _ a tiny voice argued in his mind.

But he knew that no matter how much he wanted those thoughts to be true, no matter how much he wished that familiar sizzle of chemistry he'd felt as Bucky pressed him against the kitchen counter was real, none of them could be. Because Bucky couldn't remember a single part of his life from before Hydra had taken him, and that included the love that they had shared. 

A familiar anguish washed over Steve and, unable to handle it anymore, he groaned and punched the only thing he knew he couldn't damage: his shield. Then, with newly bruised knuckles that now matched his heart, he sank down until he was sitting with his back pressed against the foot of his bed, buried his head in his arms on top of his knees and, as quietly as he could, cried until there were no tears left. 


	4. Mulling Things Over

A quarter of an hour had passed since Steve had gone to his bedroom to get dressed and in that span of time, a tense silence had settled over the kitchen. Bucky kept stealing glances down the hallway as though he couldn't wait until the moment that Steve emerged from his room, while Clint and Nat did their best to pretend that they didn't notice those same longing glances. All the while, the three of them sat quietly nursing their coffees. Finally, unable to take another moment of silence, Nat hopped off her barstool with a huff, smoothed the wrinkles out of her sweater and turned to the boys.

"Fuck this. I'm going to go see what the holdup is," she muttered. "I'll kill Steve if we get caught in the last minute Christmas shopping rush all because he's been trying to get his hair just right."

And with that she turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway, completely missing the lovestruck grin that lit up Bucky's face at the thought of Steve primping in front of the mirror. She couldn't know the reason Steve was so picky about his appearance, but he did...  **he did,** he realized suddenly **.** A memory crashed into him so suddenly that Bucky nearly forgot how to breathe, and he clung to each delicate moment like it was a life preserver.

He and Steve were standing in the bathroom facing each other, Steve as gorgeous as ever in his Army uniform, gazing up at him intently as Bucky brushed pomade into his hair. Stevie was smaller, fragile and younger looking, but still so handsome, handsome in a way that made Bucky's heart clench in his chest as he completed the sidewave he'd been perfecting. Setting the comb down, he turned Steve to look at his reflection in the mirror and smiled at the way his eyes widened as he tilted his head from side to side, admiring the new style.  _ Wow, Buck,  _ he said shyly. _ I look almost as handsome as you.  _ A grin stretched across Bucky's lips and he leaned in, whispering in Steve's ear as their eyes locked in the mirror.  _ Even more so. You'll knock them dead, Stevie. _

A chuckle sounded beside Bucky, pulling him from the precious memory, and he flushed when he realized Clint had caught him reminiscing. 

"So, 'strange dreams', huh?" The shit-eating grin that was spreading across Clint's face was as endearing as it was infuriating, and Bucky couldn't help but smile as he shook his head and rolled his eyes in return. 

It had been hard for Bucky to find his place after Steve had rescued him, and other than his Golden Boy, Clint was the only one of the Avengers who had freely and immediately accepted him. They had become fast friends and after The Snap their closeness had only deepened. 

Clint had helped him cope with the vast expanse of missing time in his life and Bucky, for his part, had been quietly steadfast in his support of Clint after he first lost and then suddenly regained his wife and children. Fate had handed them each one side of a coin and together they had been working on finding a sense of completeness and healing in their lives—a task which neither of them had felt comfortable burdening their loved ones with. 

After Steve, Clint was probably the one person that Bucky felt he could truly be himself with and so now that Nat was gone, instead of sticking with the lie that he'd originally told, Bucky lifted his shoulder and shrugged. 

"Wait!" Clint said a little too loudly and then, quickly glancing down the hall to make sure neither Steve nor Nat was on their way back in, he leaned forward and dropped his voice, "Did you finally summon up the courage to tell Steve how you feel about him? Is that what we walked in on?!"

The clear excitement which had bubbled up to the surface of Clint's features washed away the initial annoyance that Bucky felt at him pressing this subject once again and a small smile appeared on his lips as he shook his head. 

"No," he said softly and he himself leaned forward to check that the coast was clear before his next words came tumbling out in an excited rush. "But I think I've finally begun to remember about our lives before the war. In fact, I think that Steve and I used to be..." 

He paused and flushed, searching for the right words, feeling a familiar sense of fear around talking about the fact that he was gay. One of the strangest parts of life after Hydra had been living in an America where, by and large, every kind of love was commonly accepted. Even though he couldn't remember a time where things were any different, deep down he knew they had been and that undercurrent of dread lingered. Although Bucky knew that he no longer needed to be ruled by his instinctual fear, Clint was the only person whom he'd felt safe enough to speak openly about his sexuality to and about the way that he felt for Steve. When his friend leaned forward with a giant grin and squeezed his knee, Bucky remembered exactly why that was. 

"Used to be what?" Clint urged, looking like a schoolboy waiting to hear from his friend about what it was like to get to second base for the first time. 

"I think... I mean, I'm fairly certain... no, I **know** that we used to be a couple."

"And you've finally remembered this?" Clint asked with a giant smile. "Congrats, man! That's huge!"

"Yeah... well, not exactly. I had this really intense dream this morning. In it, Steve and I were..." Bucky turned crimson and faltered at the memory. 

"You old dog, you!" 

Clint was having far too much fun at his expense, but Bucky didn't even mind as he pressed on, "At first I was sure it was a dream. I thought I was well and truly losing my mind over this infatuation I have. But then, the more I thought on it, the clearer it became that I was wrong. 

"It wasn't a dream, Clint. I just know it wasn't. It was too honest. Too real. And not a single second of it has faded from my mind. 

“Then, when I came out here, he turned around and another memory hit me. Just as strong as the first. You should have seen the way he reacted when I accidentally called him Stevie. He looked as though I'd struck him. 

“I thought I'd upset him, but when I apologized and told him I wouldn't call him by that name again, he begged me not to stop. He said it's what I used to call him, before the war... just like in my memories."

Clint was leaning across the table and listening to Bucky so intently that he couldn't help but squirm beneath his gaze. 

"That's fantastic, man. I'm so happy that things are starting to make their way back to you," Clint grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "I told you they would."

"Yeah," Bucky smiled in return. But his expression gradually turned wistful as he thought aloud, "There's just one thing I don't understand."

"What's that?" Clint asked, sounding almost hesitant.

"I just can't figure out why, if we have this history between us, hasn't he ever mentioned it to me before? Why did he evade answering me when I questioned him this morning?"

"I don't know, man." The reply was soft and sad, touched with honesty, but although it was only for a moment, Bucky caught the brief flash of guilt that passed over Clint's features at the question and he suddenly wondered just how many of their friends knew about his and Steve's history. 

"Do you think it's because he doesn't want to be with me?" he asked softly, hands fidgeting in his lap, fear a drumbeat that echoed in his ears. "Is it because he doesn't love me anymore?"

"No, Bucky," Clint replied immediately, his eyes flashing as he immediately pushed back against his friend's fears. "What I think is that you need to tell Steve what happened. You need to talk to him."

"Yeah?" Bucky asked nervously. 

"Yeah," Clint replied gently, patting his knee. "Go on. Send Nat out here. We can keep ourselves entertained for a little while."

Bucky nodded and stood as Clint picked up a newspaper off the island and, seeming to dismiss him, began thumbing through it. Without thinking, Bucky's feet led him toward Steve's room and, pausing momentarily in the doorway to the hall, he turned and looked back towards his friend. 

"Hey," he said softly, smiling when Clint glanced back in his direction, "thank you for always listening. And for the pep talk."

"No problem, man. You know I'm here for you anytime... You and Steve have been through enough. You both deserve a little happiness after so much hurt." Clint grinned and gave him a quick nod. "And Bucky?" 

"Yeah, Clint?"

His eyes softened as he set his paper down and he nodded towards Steve's room. "Go get your man."

Bucky's face lit up with a grin of his own and, nodding more to himself than to Clint, he turned and made his way down the hall. As he neared Steve's room, the music that was playing in the kitchen quieted and he could hear the soft rumble of Steve and Nat's voices through the crack in the door. Attempting to steel his nerves, he paused on the threshold and cleared his mind of the doubt that had begun to creep in. 

_ No,  _ he chided himself.  _ Get your shit together, because it's now or never.  _

Shaking the excess energy out of his hands, Bucky took a centering breath and lifted his fist to knock on the doorframe, halting when he heard the thready inhalation of a sob. 

"Come on, Steve. Talk to me," came Nat's gentle urging. "What happened? Did you two have a fight?"

"No. It was nothing like that." 

Steve's response was so quiet that he could barely hear it and, feeling embarrassed for intruding, Bucky slowly began to back away, until Steve's next words froze him in his tracks. 

"It's so much worse than that... For a brief moment this morning, he looked at me and, I swear to God Nat, it was like he was seeing me for the first time since the Freeze. I mean,  **really** seeing me. He was looking at me the way that he used to, like he could actually remember us. Like he'd never forgotten in the first place..." Steve's voice was filled with anguish as he continued. "... but it was all in my fucking head.” 

“I don't know how it's possible to miss a person who you see every single day, but I do. I miss him so fucking much. With every beat of my heart and breath that fills my lungs. I spent seventy years frozen in time and when I came back, I thought that I'd lost everyone. After all, what else should I have expected? Yet somehow, out of all the people who were precious to me, returned the one who I loved most and fate brought us back together... but it's not the same. I know it's selfish of me, that I should be grateful to have him back in my life at all, and I am. But, it isn't the same. I would give anything just to kiss him one more time."

Steve's words stunned Bucky and he closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against the doorjamb. Pressing his palm to the wall as though, somehow, he could reach through the barriers between them and comfort the man on the other side. He knew exactly how Steve felt. 

"Steve..." Nat said cautiously, pulling Bucky from his reverie.

"Don't," Steve warned, sighing with frustration as Nat raised her voice slightly and continued right on speaking. 

"I know it's not what you want to hear, but I think it's well past time that you spoke to him."

"No." Steve's response was as instant as it was forceful, and Bucky's brow creased in confusion. "You  **know** that's off the table. I would never take advantage of our connection or his memory loss in that way. It's coercive and I wouldn't dare violate his trust like that."

Bucky's face paled at Steve's outburst.  _ Of course...  _ he thought with a new sense of sorrow.  _ All this time, Stevie has been suffering on his own so that he could protect me. My sweet, stubborn Golden Boy. _

"I think Bucky knows more than you're giving him credit for," Nat insisted. 

There was a pause and then a heavy sigh. 

"If that's true, then things are even worse than I had feared," Steve replied softly, his voice filled with anguish. 

"What do you mean?' Nat said, her voice tinged with worry. "How could it possibly be worse?"

"Because," he murmured, voice thick as though he was struggling not to cry, "if he does remember and he hasn't said anything by now, it's because he wishes that he didn't."

The hurt that impregnated Steve's voice broke Bucky's heart and left him longing to burst through the door and gather Steve up into his arms. He wanted to stroke Steve's golden hair, press kisses against his skin and tell him just how wrong he was, but his hand paused just above the door knob.

He knew now more than ever that he had to speak to Steve, to let him know that he did remember, that there was nothing he wanted more than to spend the rest of their lives together. But he couldn't have that conversation right now. Not while Nat and Clint were around. It was too private, too painful and too intimate. 

Knowing what he had to do, Bucky leaned in and brushed his lips softly against the door that separated him and the man he loved. Then, he quietly stepped away and silently made his way across the hall to his room. Quickly changing into a pair of jeans and boots, he grabbed his wallet, shoved it into his back pocket, and walked back out into the kitchen. 

Rushing past a concerned looking Clint, he gave a wave over his shoulder before the questions could start flying and snatched his leather jacket from where it had been hanging in their entryway. Then, without another word, he slipped out of the apartment into the hallway beyond. 

The door closed with a sense of finality that seemed to echo along the corridor, following along behind him as he approached the stairs and bounded down them two at a time. As he exited their brownstone into the crisp December air, Bucky knew that there was no going back to the routine that he and Steve had settled into since the Freeze. They were meant to be together and he wouldn't rest until Steve understood that that was how he actually felt. 

But first, there were a few stops that he needed to make. 


	5. Holiday Displays of Affection

The slamming of the front door caught Steve's attention from where he lay on his side, head resting in Nat's lap as she stroked his hair and his tears gradually began to dry. Sitting up on the bed, he looked curiously in the direction of his and Bucky's front hall and was just opening his mouth to ask if Nat invited anyone else along today when the sound of Bucky's motorcycle roared to life outside. 

Standing up, he rushed to the window and looked out just in time to see Bucky's muscular frame disappearing down the street in a blur of denim, leather and steel. 

"Buck?" he murmured softly as confusion roiled in the pit of his belly. 

"What is it, Steve?" Nat asked from just behind his shoulder, causing him to flinch in surprise. 

"I don't know..."

Steve's legs seemed to be working on autopilot as he slipped past a concerned-looking Nat, out of his bedroom and back into the kitchen beyond. Eartha Kitt was singing to Santa Baby as Clint stood beside the island, looking in the direction of the front door with an expression that somehow managed to be both perplexed and concerned. 

"Where did Bucky go?" Steve asked, having to clear his throat of the tightness that seemed to be lodged there. 

His voice startled Clint, who glanced over at him in surprise, his expression softening as he caught his watery eyes and red-rimmed nose. 

"Jeeze, Steve. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied, his tone clipped as he repeated his initial question. "Where did Bucky go?"

"I dunno, man. He just came tearing through here and stalked out of the apartment without a backward glance."

"But he's supposed to go skating with us," Steve argued, immediately regretting snapping at Clint, as he'd done nothing wrong. Clearing his voice, his tone softened yet was filled with melancholy as he continued, "It's tradition."

He flushed when Nat came up to stand behind him and began rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades in an attempt to calm him down. 

"I'm sure there's a good explanation for why he felt the need to pop out," she murmured softly, her voice becoming more firm as she addressed Clint. "Isn't there?"

"Yeah, man. There has to be," he replied immediately. 

Steve nodded but remained unconvinced. What if Bucky had overheard him and Nat speaking and it made him so angry, or disgusted, that he ran away? 

_ No. Stop that, you're being paranoid,  _ he chided himself.  _ Bucky doesn't know anything. And even if he did, we're best friends. He wouldn't just run away without talking to me first.  _

Taking a steadying breath, Steve wiped away the fresh tears which had spilled down his cheeks and glanced down the hallway towards their front door, as though it held the answers to the many questions swirling through his mind. At first, everything seemed normal, until his eyes landed on the familiar splash of scarlet fabric adorning the entryway. First concern and then panic bubbled up in Steve's chest as he noted Bucky's hat, gloves and scarf still hanging beside the door. Tearing his eyes away from the cozy cashmere articles, he glanced out their living room windows to the great swirling plumes of snow beyond. 

"But it's frigid out there," Steve murmured. "He'll freeze."

___

Pressing his torso down flatter against his bike in an attempt to duck further below the windshield, Bucky cursed himself for forgetting to put on his gloves or scarf as he rushed out of his and Steve's home. His helmet gave at least a little reprieve from the bitter cold, but his hands and neck stung from the freezing bite of the wind as it whipped past him. Adding a stop by Barney's to the top of his list for the day, Bucky hooked a left and headed towards Madison Avenue. 

By the time he pulled into the garage a couple of blocks from the department store, Bucky was shivering and he rushed to find a parking spot, eager to get inside and stave off the chill. 

"Winter Soldier, my ass," he muttered as he emerged into the crowded streets of the shopping district. He'd always hated the cold. 

Cursing the fates for beginning to restore his memory on the busiest shopping day of the year, he pulled his black shearling collar closer around his neck and set off in search of gloves and a scarf. He'd become used to keeping his head downcast in order to avoid being recognized by other New Yorkers, paparazzi and tourists, so he didn't notice the young couple that was walking hand-in-hand towards him until one of the two was accidentally shoulder-checking him, as he himself attempted to side-step a young mother who was rushing her brood along the sidewalk behind her. 

"Excuse me, sir, I'm so sorry!" the young man exclaimed as he reached out with one hand to steady Bucky before he went ass-over-teakettle.

Between the cold, the crowd and the situation with Stevie, Bucky's short temper was already dangerously frayed. He looked up, fully prepared to lay into whoever it was that had slammed into him, but the bitter words died in his mouth as he caught sight of the two boys standing before him. 

They stood hand-in-hand, cheeks pink with merriment and smiles so bright they could have put all the Christmas bulbs in New York to shame. The one closest to him was fair and slight, with blonde hair, blue eyes and the slightest gap between his two front teeth. Behind him stood a tall raven-haired boy who was looking down at the blonde as though he were a newly-discovered chest of treasure. Eighty years earlier, on this very block, and they could have been him and Stevie. Bucky's heart squeezed in his chest. 

"No problem," he smiled warmly. "Have a Merry Christmas, you two."

"Merry Christmas to you too!" Stevie Junior chirped before turning back and weaving his arm through that of his partner's. 

Bucky stood rooted to the spot and watched as the two young men slowly walked down the sidewalk arm-in-arm, window shopping and sharing stolen glances without a care in the world. The sight brought a smile to his lips. 

_ That used to be us, Stevie,  _ he thought to himself.  _ I promise it'll be us again.  _

Nodding as he made the silent vow, Bucky turned back in the direction that he'd originally been headed and paused as he caught sight of a truly breathtaking Christmas display across from where he stood. Stepping towards the curb, he briefly glanced both ways and then jogged across the busy street, waving apologetically at the string of cars that honked in his wake. He slowed as he approached the display, a smile softening his rugged features as he admired the scene created by Christmas in New York. 

The store prided itself as being ‘Santa's home away from home’, but as a gentle thread tugged at his mind, Bucky remembered that every holiday season they picked one specific theme and imbued it with Christmas cheer. This year was no different and the display was absolutely stunning. 

A yellow brick road threaded its way between fields of glittering snow-covered poppies. It stretched from a short and stout tree at one side of the display, which was a riot of candy store bliss, across to the other side of the window where there stood a tall and commanding tree, fit for a king (or perhaps a wizard) as it glittered and shone with gold and emeralds. Every ornament was meticulously crafted and Bucky stood suspended in time as he took them all in, until his eyes finally landed on one in particular and his face became host to a magnificent grin. 

It was perfect. Hurrying over to the store's entrance, he slipped inside and waved down an employee dressed as one of Santa's helpers to enquire about the unique ornament. Describing the piece he was after, they both set out searching the store for it, but unfortunately came up empty-handed. Frowning, the employee moved up to the checkout counter and searched the store's inventory on the computer resting atop her desk. 

"Huh, that's strange,” she murmured. "I'm not showing any record of us having that ornament in stock at this location. Which is strange considering we have it out in our display."

Bucky's heart sank and her eyes softened as she looked up at him. 

"Give me just a minute to try one more thing." 

She stepped through a door behind the counter that looked as though it was made from gingerbread and he couldn't help but chuckle over the sign that hung on it which read, "Santa's workshop. Employees only."

A couple minutes later, a portly older woman with ivory ringlets piled on top of her head, wearing a red dress and white apron, emerged from the back and led Santa's helper to the front of the store. They both disappeared from view for a few minutes and when they returned, the young girl dressed as an elf held the sparkling glass ornament in her hands. Giving him a wink, she wrapped the parcel up in golden tissue paper and slid it safely into a small green velvet box. 

"Thank you both so much. You have no idea how happy this is going to make my sweetheart," he said with a smile, pulling out his wallet from where it was resting in his breast pocket. "How much do I owe you?" 

The two women looked at each other, sharing a conspiratorial smile, as the older woman stepped forward from where she'd come to rest against the workshop's door. 

"This present is a gift for someone that you love?" she asked in a kindly voice. 

"More than anyone else in the universe," he replied honestly, a faint blush touching his cheeks. 

"Then let it be a gift from myself and Mr. Claus," she said with a smile, softly patting his cheek. 

"I-I couldn't possibly," Bucky stammered, eyes widening at her offer. 

"Pish, posh," the older woman interrupted him with a furrowed brow. Her expression softened at the tears that had unexpectedly swum up into his vision and she continued, "There's not enough love in this world, and you must love this person very dearly to have stopped in here on one of the most crowded shopping days of the year, in the middle of what I imagine is a very busy schedule, just to retrieve an ornament you thought would bring a smile to their face and joy to their heart."

Reaching out, she squeezed his large hands softly between her delicate wrinkled ones. 

"It's Christmas Eve. Let an old woman share in that joy with you."

Gratitude bubbled up from deep in Bucky's chest and spilled out in the form of a delighted chuckle. Smiling, he stepped around the counter and gathered the would-be Mrs. Kringle up in his arms, spinning her around and giving her a firm squeeze as he did. 

"Thank you so much!" He grinned as he gently placed her back onto the floor and she giggled before softly swatting his muscular chest. 

"You're quite welcome, my dear," she beamed up at him. "Now, get out of here and go home to your sweetie." 

He nodded and gathered up the bag which Santa's helper had put the velvet box inside of, waving over his shoulder to both of them as he dashed through the store and opened the front door to the familiar tinkling of jingle bells. 

"Oh! And young man?" She called out, causing him to pause and turn back to face her as he hovered in the doorway. 

"Yes?" he asked with a gentle smile. 

"Don't forget to leave out milk and cookies tonight," she teased with a sparkle in her eyes. 

"I wouldn't dare," he replied somberly and then winked as he stepped back out into the hustle and bustle of New York City. 

Fate, it would seem, was on his side after all.

Now all he needed was to stop by Barney's and then find a barbershop that was actually open. Clutching Stevie's gift to his chest, he ventured onwards towards the department store with a grin on his face and a bounce in his step, cocooned in a sense of lightness and hope which he'd not felt in decades. 


	6. Same Bucky, Different Wrapping

Looking over his reflection in the mirror, Bucky turned from side to side, admiring the outfit that a Barneys shopping assistant named Marco had helped him pull together over the previous two hours. The man in the mirror, who he barely recognized as himself, was dressed in a jade silk dress shirt which made his eyes pop, unbuttoned just far enough to showcase how much time he spent training and was tucked into a pair of slim-fit merino wool slacks. Soft to the touch, the slacks were pleated down the front and made of a subtle, yet sophisticated, black and charcoal paisley that Marco insisted Steve wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of. A skinny double-breasted blazer in ebony velvet, along with a matching belt and cap-toe double monk strap shoes, in supple Italian leather, finished off the look. 

The outfit was nothing like what he would normally wear, at least not since the Freeze, but looking at his reflection, Bucky could feel a memory trying to tug at the recesses of his mind. Although the cuts were modern, the fabrics and colors were classic, and they resonated deep within his soul. It felt as though Marco had been able to wade into the hazy fog of his mind and he'd returned with a collection of articles that had Bucky feeling more like himself than he had in all the days since Stevie had brought him home. He had a feeling this was just the first of many visits he'd be making to Barneys, and Marco specifically. It was just too bad that he was in such a time crunch today. Still, a sense of nervousness clung to him, and he couldn't help the jitters that shot through his core as he wondered what Steve would think when he saw him. 

"Are you sure it's not too much?" he wondered aloud as he thumbed the soft fabric of the jacket. 

"Honey, some clothing wear the man, but I don't think there's an article in this store that couldn't benefit from being modeled by you," Marco gushed. "You look hot as sin."

How a simple trip to snag some gloves and a scarf had turned into a multiple hour shopping spree, Bucky would never know, but catching the way a nearby sales girl's eyes roamed hungrily over his frame, he had to admit that he found himself agreeing with Marco's assessment. 

_Hopefully, Stevie agrees too,_ he mused. 

Unable to suppress the urge to grin, Bucky glanced back towards Marco, who was now holding a plush jungle green scarf and matching gloves. 

"Alpaca," the shorter man stated matter-of-factly before dropping his voice so only Bucky could hear. "Only the best for my favorite Avenger."

Flushing scarlet, Bucky's eyes widened in shock. Over the previous two hours, not once had Marco let on that he had any clue who Bucky was, but there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes now. Walking over to join him at the pedestal before the mirror, Marco pretended as though he'd said nothing out of the ordinary and primly draped the scarf around Bucky's neck, tugging and smoothing the soft fabric into place until it perfectly tied his outfit together.

"Want to know a secret?" he asked softly, face completely impassive until Bucky gave a hesitant nod of confirmation.

"Why not?" he murmured. "In for a penny, in for a pound."

Marco chuckled and glanced around to ensure that no one would overhear while brushing his fingers over Bucky's shoulders as though clearing away some lint. "My boyfriend and I have always rooted for you and that handsome blond fellow. Captain America, isn't it?"

"Steve. Steve Rogers," Bucky found himself responding, too shocked to stop himself. He almost laughed at the way Marco's perfectly waxed brows rose mischievously at his correction. 

"Right. Steve." The way the other man said Stevie's name had pink bursting across Bucky's cheeks. "So, Mr. Barnes, is he the one we're getting you all gussied up for?"

Unable to help himself, Bucky's full lips stretched into a wide grin and, with eyes sparkling, he gave a wink, leaned in and whispered, "Perhaps."

"I knew it!" Marco screeched and then realizing how loud he'd been, clapped both hands over his mouth, still wiggling back and forth excitedly.

Bucky couldn't help the laughter as it came rumbling up from deep within his chest and, giving his reflection a final glance in the mirror, he pulled his credit card from his wallet. "I'll take it all."

"I can't tell you how thrilled I am to hear you say that, and he will be too," Marco gushed. With eyes dancing, he grinned and took the plastic from Bucky. "Do you want me to box that outfit up? Or will you be wearing it out?"

"I think I'd like to wear it out."

"Perfect. Follow me; I'll get the clothes you wore here packed away for you and then we'll get you rung up."

Bucky smiled and followed along in Marco's effervescent wake. A quarter of an hour later all the tags and security devices had been removed from his new threads, his old ones were folded neatly into the signature black and white paper bags, and he was scrawling his signature on a receipt for more money than he wanted to think about. But he knew it would all be worth it to see the look on Stevie's face when he arrived at the restaurant that they, Clint, and Nat had planned to grab lunch at. He smiled at the thought of when they would arrive home afterward and what he hoped would lead to Stevie pulling off all the luxurious clothing that Marco had spent so much time getting him into. He adjusted himself as discreetly as was possible while his imagination ran away with itself. 

"Thank you so much for your business, Mr. Barnes. I do hope we'll see you again soon," said Marco, pulling Bucky from his X-rated thoughts and causing his cheeks to darken. 

"So do I, Marco," he replied warmly. "Thank you for all your help today. You've been absolutely wonderful. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I'm happy to have helped," Marco chuckled, then produced a business card from inside his left breast pocket. On it, in crisp black lettering was: _Marco L. Andretti - Menswear Stylist and Personal Shopper - Barneys New York_ with the store's address, Marco's work number, and his email _._ "Please, don't hesitate to come back in, or call and let me know if there's any other way I can be of assistance."

"Will do." Bucky smiled and then turned to leave, but a moment later he paused and turned back towards Mr. Andretti. _Why not?_ He thought to himself, _It couldn't hurt to ask._

"Actually, Marco, I do have something that I'm in need of... Do you happen to know of any barbershops that might be open and have availability this afternoon?"

With a glint in his eye, Marco gave Bucky's man-bun a quick once-over and cheerily replied, "Why yes, I do. I'm _delighted_ that you asked!"

___

Steve sighed forlornly as he finished lacing up his skates and pulled out his phone to check it one last time.

_Where on earth have you gone off to?_ he wondered as worry clawed at the pit of his belly. 

This behavior wasn't like Bucky, the old or the new, and Steve found himself fighting off another round of tears as he reread the text exchange between them since Bucky had left this morning. 

  


The last had been sent three-and-a-half hours ago, and though he'd delayed Nat and Clint for as long as possible, they'd finally dragged him from the apartment in an attempt to clear away his gloom. But slipping his phone back into his jacket and glancing out at the crowd, Steve's heart ached for the man who was missing from beside him.

"That's enough, Gloomy Gus." Nat interrupted his thoughts, bumping her shoulder against his. "It's time to show them what you're made of!"

She rose and stood before him, taking Steve's hands in hers and pulling him to his feet. 

"You are going to get that tight little ass of yours out on that ice and we are going to skate your worries away. Deal?" she demanded. 

"Deal," Steve agreed, but it was clear that his heart wasn't in it. Especially when he glanced over at Clint and noticed him frantically typing away at his own phone. 

With increasing worry, he allowed himself to be pulled into the outdoor rink, but no matter how bracing the chill or cheery their surroundings, his thoughts never once strayed from Bucky and the way they'd left things before he'd left that morning. 

___

Bucky smiled to himself as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, glancing up and blushing when he realized Antoni, Marco's stylist boyfriend, was watching him with a huge grin on his face. 

"Is that Steeeve?" he asked, drawing out Stevie's name in a singsong voice. 

Marco had called up Antoni within moments of Bucky asking for his advice and luckily, after a brief phone call of his own, the Parker kid agreed to pick up his bike and drive it home. So, twenty minutes and one cab ride later, here he sat in one of the swankiest salons in Midtown, sipping a Pellegrino and leafing through copies of GQ as Antoni brushed through his hair, getting a feel for the texture. Bucky's smile grew wider and he averted his gaze before schooling his features and clearing his throat to reply.

"No, it's not Steve," he chuckled when Antoni huffed indignantly, then quietly conceded, "but, it is about him."

"Ah, I see," Antoni teased. "So you have accomplices in your plan to surprise him?"

"An accomplice," Bucky admitted.

"Good!" Antoni said, swatting him playfully on the shoulder with a fine-toothed comb. "So, I assume that since Marco insisted I make room in my schedule for you this afternoon, you plan on surprising him tonight?"

Bucky nodded, suddenly very shy as butterflies tumbled around in his stomach. "This afternoon actually. We were supposed to go ice skating with some friends this morning, which I imagine I've already missed, but I'm still hopeful that I can make our lunch reservation."

"And when, pray tell, might that be?" Marco asked as he examined the ends of Bucky's hair. 

"Twelve-thirty," Bucky replied softly, glancing up with a hesitant smile. 

Antoni let the strands slip from his fingers, glanced down at his watch, and stilled a moment before his eyes darted back to meet Bucky's in the mirror and his eyebrows shot up towards the ceiling. "My, my. That's not very much time at all."

"I know. I'm sorry." Like a little boy who'd been caught with his fingers in the cookie jar, Bucky's voice was tinged with guilt as he responded. "Is it too late in the day for me to be able to make it?"

"Of course not! We should have you out of here in forty minutes, tops," Antoni said with a smile. "You're just lucky that I'm a magician with these hands... and a sucker for a happy ending."

Watching Antoni make spirit fingers in the mirror, Bucky turned scarlet as his mind wandered to tonight and the type of happy ending he wanted to give Stevie. 

"Nauuugh-ty!" Antoni tutted with a smile. Taking mercy on Bucky, he schooled his features into the picture of professionalism and, pointing down to the magazine resting in Bucky’s lap, he asked, "Have you found a hairstyle that you like?"

Frowning, Bucky shook his head and paused for a moment to think. After a tick, he sighed and tossed the magazine onto the stack of others beside him before glancing up and, without really thinking he had a chance, asking, "Any chance you've heard of the actor Billy Halop?"

"No," Antoni said, pulling out his phone as he finished his reply, "But we can always Google him."

Bucky watched quietly as Antoni deftly swiped his fingers over the screen of his phone, biting into his lower lip when a Cheshire grin appeared on the other man's face and he chortled. "Ohhh, I should have known you'd have a thing for older men... I can definitely work with this!"


	7. It's All Greek to Steve

Bucky stepped out of the cab in front of Molyvos just after 12:35 pm. He didn't know how his cab driver had managed to race so quickly through Midtown's lunch hour traffic, but grateful that she had, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill. He passed it over, tipping her with a "Merry Christmas", before he softly shut the door and stepped back onto the bustling sidewalk. Waving as the cab swerved back into traffic, he clung a little tighter to the bags resting at his side, took a steadying breath and turned to face his and Steve's favorite Greek restaurant. Sam insisted that Avra Estiatorio was the best spot in Manhattan, but Bucky and Steve had always known better, and luckily so did most of their friends. Glancing up at the familiar blue, cream and black sign, he smiled and, with a nod of self-encouragement, headed in to meet his fate. 

_ No turning back now.  _

Inside, the space was cozy and warm, filled with the soothing combination of tinkling silverware and cheerful conversation, and he quickly made his way back to the large round booth that he, Stevie and the rest of their friends had come to think of as their own.

Clint was the first to notice him, as Nat and Steve seemed to be engrossed in a tense-looking conversation while Sam listened in intently, and he choked on the water that he'd been drinking as his eyes took in Bucky's new appearance. Startled, Steve, Nat and Sam's heads snapped his direction in concern. 

"Are you okay, Clint?" Nat asked, reaching over Sam and rubbing his forearm soothingly. 

"Fine," Clint rasped around a cough, nodding his head and pointing towards Bucky's approaching form. But Stevie's eyes had already landed on him, going wide the moment he'd caught sight of him. 

"Buck?" Steve murmured breathlessly, looking for all the world as though he'd seen a ghost. 

A slow smile tugged up at the corners of Bucky's lips and he palmed the back of his neck, rubbing it bashfully as he replied, "Hey, Stevie. Got room for one extra?"

Beside Steve, Nat glanced up, face thunderous at the sound of his voice.

"So nice of you to finally join us..." she began, but her teaspoon immediately slipped from her fingers and clattered into her coffee as her gaze transitioned from anger to stunned awe when she finally caught sight of Bucky. 

"Christ on a cracker, my ovaries..." she whispered, slack-jawed as her eyes roamed over the results of his transformation. 

Sam must have kicked her beneath the table because she sucked in a hissing breath and glanced scornfully over at him. 

"What?!" she demanded. "Have you seen him? Just look at him!"

"You're late," Sam sniped in his direction, but Bucky simply smiled and continued to maintain eye contact with Steve. 

"I know," he said to the table at large, slipping into the booth and setting his bags on the floor in one graceful move. As he slid into place beside Steve, their thighs pressed together and he threw his arm across the back of the booth. Hope exploded in his chest at the way Steve's cheeks flushed at the contact and he leaned in, his warm breath tickling the skin just behind Steve's ear and his voice becoming gravely and dropping as he quietly whispered, "I'm sorry about that, Stevie."

"You missed skating," Steve said softly, pouting even as pink still stained his cheeks. 

"No, Stevie. I missed you," Bucky replied, having to force himself not to chuckle as Stevie's eyes widened to the size of saucers and Sam's eyebrows nearly met his hairline. "Besides, I had to pick up your Christmas gift." 

"Oh." The word was quiet and breathy, sounding close to a sigh as it left Steve's lips. His eyes darted back and forth between Bucky's hair and lips before landing back on his eyes, filled with curiosity and wonder. Emotion crashed into Bucky at that moment and he wished, if only for a second, that Stevie could see just how perfect he was. 

Suddenly, their waitress appeared and dropped off a glass of water in front of Bucky, promising to return shortly to take his order, and effectively drawing away the attention of three of the four sets of eyes that had been glued to him. He was grateful for the opportunity her arrival afforded him, and he took a moment to rein in his emotions. Reaching out, he lifted the glass to his lips and took a long pull. 

"I'll take you skating later," he said, placing the water back in front of him with one hand and squeezing Steve's thigh below the table with the other. Reaching for his menu, he brought his eyes back to meet Stevie's and softly continued, "I promise."

Steve nodded slowly, watching Bucky with a perplexed look in his eyes and a smile tilting up his lips—lips which Bucky ached to feel pressed against his own. The urge was so strong that he nearly leaned in to close the distance, company be damned. 

"Okay," Stevie said softly, bumping their shoulders together and quelling a small amount of the tension that had been building between them.

"Okay?" Sam repeated, clearly outraged. "Seriously Steve? That's it?! He blows us off for nearly five hours and has you worried out of your mind, all so he can go get some makeover, and all you have to say is okay?"

"Sam..." Clint warned from across the table, but his defense did little to help the rage simmering deep within Bucky's chest. 

This was just the latest in a string of outbursts that Bucky had been forced to endure, ever since Steve had brought him home. He had suspected for quite some time that these attacks on his character, which Sam was so prone to, were because of how close he and Steve had grown in his absence. Once Bucky had returned and become a part of the picture, Sam had done his level best to assert dominance at every opportunity, and was constantly attempting to prove that he was really Steve's best friend. 

On a good day, Bucky still struggled to weather these barbs without responding in kind, but after everything that had been revealed to him throughout the day since waking up, he found himself struggling not to reach across the table and strangle Sam. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, bunching his hands into trembling fists and resting them atop his thighs. 

"What?" Sam demanded indignantly. 

Bucky was in the process of biting into his cheek in order to hold back his sharp reply when one of Steve's hands curled softly around his aching fist. The relief was as immediate as it was unexpected, and without thinking, he unballed his hand, moving it so that it was spread out and rested atop the soft denim and hard muscle of Stevie's thigh. 

"Let it go, Sam," Steve said softly; deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, or that he'd win more points by doing so, he did just that.

A thrill coursed through Bucky, but it wasn't the soothing tone of Steve's voice that had butterflies exploding in his stomach and a grin spreading across his cheeks; it was the hardening bulge which had begun tightening Stevie's jeans, brushing against his own fingertips. And, since it hadn't been there a moment before, it wasn't difficult to figure out that it must be a direct response to Bucky's touch. Seeing as they were in the middle of a crowded restaurant instead of on the couch at home, Buck resisted the urge to palm Steve's cock through the denim and instead, pulled his hand away from the delicious length and rested it in his own lap. 

_ Fuck,  _ he thought to himself as his fingers brushed his own length _ , now I'm hard as a rock, too. Figures.  _

But for once, Bucky didn't give a damn what anyone else thought. He was tired of always having to pretend not to want Stevie. So, rather than attempt to discreetly wiggle around in the booth until he found a more comfortable position, he simply pulled his own bulge up so that it rested more subtly between his stomach and waistband, and then draped his arm back across the booth behind Stevie's shoulders.

A tense moment passed at the table while everyone else pretended not to notice Sam shooting daggers in Bucky's direction or Bucky grinning like a lovesick dope at Steve, until finally, the waitress returned to take their orders, giving the group a much-needed reprieve. 

"So, how was skating?" Bucky asked the table when he and his friends were alone once more, voice chipper. Once Nat jumped in, quashing the tense void and regaling him with stories about Clint and Sam being mobbed by a gaggle of shrieking teenage girls, he turned and faced Steve head-on. Leaning in and dropping his voice so he could address Stevie separately, Bucky brushed his fingertips lightly across his right shoulder and quietly said, "I really am sorry that I missed out on our tradition today. It won't happen again. And I'm also sorry that I worried you. I didn't mean to."

"I know," Steve said softly as he stared up into Bucky's emerald eyes. "I'm just happy that you're finally here."

The smile that those words pulled from Bucky was blinding and he couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips. 

"Me too, Stevie," he murmured. "Me too."

Settling back against the booth, he found himself once again smiling like a fool in love. His Golden Boy had no clue just how right he was, and Bucky couldn't wait until they got home and he could tell him. 

The remaining portion of their Christmas Eve meal luckily went off without a hitch, mostly due to Clint's decision to begin singing Christmas carols at full volume whenever anyone stepped a toe out of line. Bucky made a mental note to get him a thank-you gift on top of the one he'd already purchased for the holiday. Once they'd all eaten to their hearts’ content, and their stomachs’ limits, they congregated outside and, to Bucky's growing impatience, leisurely bade their farewells. 

He had never understood how it could take any group of people upwards of half a dozen attempts at saying goodbye, but somehow that is what always happened when Steve, Nat and Sam hung out. Normally he was able to quietly soldier through these prolonged goodbyes, but as the sky began to deepen to a vivid cobalt color, he finally lost the last semblance of his patience. He needed to get Steve home and he wasn't going to let a rehashing of their plans for tomorrow stop him any longer. 

"Great!" he said a little too brightly, cutting off Nat mid-sentence and earning himself a death-glare. "We will see you all for dinner tomorrow at three sharp. In the meantime, I'm freezing my balls off. Stevie, looks like this cab is ours."

Wrapping his green-gloved hand around Steve's red one, he held his bags in the other, turned to wave down an approaching yellow vehicle, and dragged a startled-looking Steve along behind him. Holding the door of the cab open for him, Bucky smiled sweetly at Steve as he flushed an even deeper shade of pink than the cold had already provided and softly murmured, "After you, Stevie."

Giving one final wave to Clint, Nat, and Sam, Bucky ignored the twin looks of excitement shared by the two former and the thunderous expression of mutiny aimed in his direction by the latter. He folded himself into the backseat of the cab and leaned forward to share their address with the driver before relaxing back into his seat and glancing lovingly towards his beautiful Golden Boy. 

"I hope you don't mind," he murmured softly. "I just couldn't handle standing another hour out in the freezing cold."

"I don't mind," Stevie softly replied, and although there was a measure of uncertainty in his gorgeous summer-blue eyes, a timid smile stretched across his delicious pink lips. 

"Good." Bucky's own lips tilted up affectionately in return. "Let's go home."


	8. Coming Home

The cab ride home to Brooklyn may have passed in relative silence, but the backseat was filled with so much tension that by the time their driver pulled up outside Bucky and Steve's brownstone you could have cut it with a knife. The cab had barely come to a stop before Bucky was rifling through his wallet, passing over a fifty to the driver, wishing him a rushed "Merry Christmas" and pulling Stevie out along behind him. 

After practically dragging Steve into their building and up the stairs, he was so nervous for what was to come that he found himself dropping his keys as he fumbled to unlock their front door. Kneeling down to pick them up off the floor, Stevie's head brushed Bucky's thigh, and he had to bite back a moan. A memory came surging up from the recesses of his mind, and it was of them in a similar situation. That time it had been a tube of toothpaste that had fallen to the floor and Bucky could remember, as clear as if it had been yesterday, sinking his fingers into Steve's golden hair and guiding his hot, wet mouth until it was blissfully wrapped around the painfully hard cock that was currently pressed insistently against his slacks. 

Unaware of the thoughts flooding Bucky's mind, Steve stood up and unlocked the door. Stepping inside, he turned around and gave Bucky a dazzling smile.

"Are you coming inside?" he asked, quirking his brow as he made room for Bucky to slip past.

_ Oh yes,  _ Buck thought _ , I plan to.  _ But, staying silent, he nodded and stepped into their apartment. 

The two quickly pulled off their scarves, gloves and coats, moving back and forth around each other in a familiar rhythm as they hung each article up in its proper place, before turning and making their way towards the open kitchen, dining and living area.

"Would you like some cocoa?" Bucky asked, smiling over his shoulder as he wandered further into the kitchen and over towards the stove. 

Stevie nodded and flushed, causing Bucky to wonder what exactly was going through his mind, but before he could dwell too long on it, Steve turned towards the living room, softly calling over his shoulder, "I'll get a fire started."

"Perfect," Bucky replied as he began rifling through the cabinets and fridge for cocoa powder, milk, sugar and vanilla. 

He took his time, giving himself an internal pep talk as he stood over the stove and stirred the ingredients together. When the rich, brown liquid began to steam and tiny bubbles started ringing the outer edge of the pan, he pulled the sweet concoction off the burner and poured it into two large ceramic mugs, topping each one off with a curl of orange peel and a generous swirl of whipped cream—just the way his Golden Boy liked. Holding Stevie's gift beneath his arm, he lifted up both of their mugs, took a fortifying breath and went to join Steve, before his courage could fail him. 

As he stepped down into their sunken living room, Bucky nearly dropped their hot cocoa at the sight that met him. The sparkling lights of Brooklyn twinkled and shone outside, lending their beauty to the warm glow that was created by the massive Christmas tree that glittered prettily in the corner of the room, amongst various garlands, candles, and other decorations; but nothing could compare to the sight of Stevie as he knelt down in front of the fireplace. His glorious ass was raised high in the air as he bent forward to nurture the fire which he'd started. It was perfectly showcased by the tight denim of his jeans and all Bucky could think of was pulling them down, spreading those firm round cheeks and guiding his aching prick home. 

_ Fuck, Stevie...  _ he thought, clenching his jaw. Shaking his head, he attempted to clear that image from his mind and gingerly placed both mugs down onto the coffee table.  _ One step at a time,  _ he reminded himself as he sank down into their plush chenille sectional and tucked Stevie's gift down by his side. Fiddling around with his cellphone, he tried in vain to distract himself as he waited for Steve to finish building the fire; but since he'd never really gotten the hang of social media, nothing seemed to work. So, instead of continuing to drive himself crazy, Bucky threw his phone aside and settled in to watch the show. He found himself admiring the way the soft firelight danced across Steve's broad shoulders and golden hair, turning it to a molten bronze as the flames flickered and moved behind him. By the time Stevie finally turned around to face him, Bucky was smiling like a dope. His Golden Boy's eyes widened as he caught sight of him, and he flushed as he got to his feet. 

"I didn't even hear you come over," Steve said as he crossed the few feet that separated them and sat down next to him, smiling shyly as he took the mug Bucky had picked up and was holding out to him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," came Bucky's quiet reply. 

A taut silence settled between the pair as they sipped on their drinks and watched the crackling fire, sneaking glances back and forth whenever they thought the other wasn't watching. It was only a matter of time, however, until their eyes were bound to meet and Bucky couldn't help but smile as he caught Stevie watching him longingly. 

"Care to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked, leaning forward and placing his now empty mug back onto the coffee table.

"Your hair," Stevie murmured softly and promptly dropped his gaze, almost as if he hadn't intended to say his thoughts out loud. 

Without thinking, Bucky reached up, the action drawing Steve's attention back to him, and ran his fingers through the side-swooped style in a show of nerves. The movement caused a strand to dislodge, curling artfully above his right brow, and Stevie bit into his full lower lip as, unbeknownst to Bucky, he had to forcefully stop himself from reaching out and rubbing its softness between his fingers. 

"I can grow it back..." Bucky began, but Steve quickly cut him off. 

"No! Don't grow it back. I like it."

"You're sure?" Bucky asked nervously, sounding anything but sure himself. Steve nodded his reply and Bucky could see the internal argument that was flying around in his mind, various emotions flickering across his face before finally settling into a wistful expression. 

"It looks like how it used to, back before the war."

A smile tugged at the corner of Bucky's lips and those words were all the encouragement he needed. Leaning forward, he gently removed the cocoa from Steve's hands, placed it beside his and replaced it with the green velvet box he'd hidden beside him.

"What's this?" Stevie asked curiously. 

"It looks like a Christmas gift to me."

"But it's only Christmas Eve," Steve argued, looking up at him confused. 

"Well, I suppose Santa's come early this year." Bucky couldn't help but chuckle as he replied, "Now open it up and see what's inside."

Stevie glanced back and forth between the gift and him a few times, before curiosity finally seemed to win out and, grinning, he opened the box with a soft pop. The smile which had lit up his face just moments before faltered and his brow momentarily furrowed in confusion as he moved the golden tissue paper aside to reveal a glittering ornament in the shape of a ruby red slipper. Then, quite suddenly, understanding dawned in those beautiful blue eyes and, filling with unshed tears, they shot up to meet Bucky's glistening green ones. 

"Buck...?" he murmured. 

"Merry Christmas, Scarecrow," Bucky softly replied. 

The words had barely left his lips before the box was snapping shut, falling to the floor, and his Golden Boy was scrambling across the couch and up onto his lap. Bucky moaned and wrapped his arms tightly around Stevie's waist, drawing a whimper from between those lush pink lips as he held him securely in place and their lips came crashing together in a bruising kiss. Clinging to one another, they drank each other in with long slow pulls, not unlike two men who had been dying of thirst and had suddenly stumbled upon a natural spring. Too quickly, the moment was over and Bucky's fingers were curling into the soft jersey of Steve's tee, attempting to hold him in place even as their mouths parted.

"You remember us, Buck?" Stevie whispered softly against his lips, pulling back to catch his breath and reverently running his fingers through Bucky's dark waves. "You actually remember us?"

There was a timid vulnerability that shone in his cornflower eyes and Bucky's heart ached painfully in his chest at the thought of how long his love had spent waiting for him. Reaching up with one hand, he cradled Stevie's neck and gently ran his thumb back and forth along his swollen lower lip, bringing his other hand up and sliding it underneath Stevie's shirt to splay across the smooth skin of his ribs and back.

"I never forgot us, Stevie, and I never forgot you. Who I forgot was myself. But that's over now," Bucky murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned forward and tenderly kissed away the tears which had begun to streak down Stevie's cheeks.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you. I-I just couldn't. It didn't feel right..." the words came tumbling out of Steve in a nervous rush, as though he was afraid he'd be unable to get them all out. He had a tortured expression across his lovely features as he squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his chin, unable to meet Bucky's gaze.

"Shhh," Bucky whispered, softly stroking Steve's back in soothing circles. "You don't have anything to apologize for. I completely understand."

"Really?" Steve asked, voice unsure. 

"Yes, baby. I promise." Pressing their foreheads together, Bucky's gaze was solemn as he continued, "Hydra may have stolen you away from me and changed the signs along the road that were meant to lead us back together, but I found my way home eventually. I'm just sorry that it took me so long. I love you, my perfect, sweet Scarecrow."

"I love you too, Buck," Stevie sobbed. "So, so much." 

Wrapping his arms around Bucky's shoulders, Steve curled his fingers into Bucky's hair and drew him back in for another kiss. This time, when their lips met it wasn't with the same explosive urgency as before, but instead with a series of soft brush-like strokes. Bucky's other hand dipped beneath the hem of Steve's shirt to join his first and together they glided across his back in gentle exploratory strokes. Longing for more, Stevie ground his hips down instinctively, desperate for relief and groaning when, instead, the movement caused both of their cocks to rub together through the various layers of fabric that separated them, creating a delicious friction.

"Fuck Stevie!" Bucky groaned against his lips. 

Steve moaned a brief reply before he was sitting up more fully in Bucky's lap, shrugging out of his t-shirt and tossing it to the floor. Bucky only had a moment to admire the toned perfection that was Stevie's body before his Golden Boy was reaching forward and pushing on his shoulders so that he collapsed back against the couch. 

"Your turn now," he murmured, pressing another quick kiss to Bucky's lips before tugging his dress shirt free from his trousers. Relaxing into the cushions behind him, Bucky rested his hands on Stevie's hips, a smile plastered to his lips as he watched Stevie make quick work out of unfastening the buttons on his shirt. When the last jade circlet was free, Steve worked his hands beneath the soft fabric and slid them slowly up Bucky's stomach and chest, taking his time to caress and explore each ridge of muscle in sight. 

"You're so beautiful, Buck," he murmured, eyes feasting on every inch of skin that was revealed as his fingers trailed across Bucky's shoulders and arms, slowly pushing the shirt down as they did. Leaning forward, Bucky captured Steve's lips once more and wiggled his arms free, shaking off the garment completely. 

"So are you, baby," he replied, smiling. The feeling of Steve's hands exploring his naked skin drew his gaze down, and Bucky watched as his Golden Boy first stroked and then rolled his nipples between his pointer and middle fingers. The pinching sensation sent a sudden jolt of pleasure straight down to Bucky's already achingly hard cock and his fingers dug into Stevie's hips, holding him in place. Thrusting his own hips up, Bucky rubbed both of their erections against each other, causing Stevie to let out a breathy moan. 

"Is that better, baby?" he asked and leaned in to scatter kisses from Steve's neck down to his shoulder.

"Almost..." Steve panted, his tone somehow managing to be both playful and serious all at once. " ... but not quite."

"Oh?" Bucky asked, pulling back and quirking his brow at the pouty expression that his Golden Boy had adopted. Playing along with the game Stevie had decided to play, he leaned in, palming his ass and squeezing it roughly as he lowered his voice, whispering hotly against Steve's neck, "And what exactly can I do to make you happy?"

Moaning, Stevie reached down between his own thighs, wrapped his palm around the massive bulge in Bucky's slacks, and squeezing it softly as he rubbed up and down along its length, he replied, "Lose the fucking pants."


	9. Comfort and Joy

Bucky grinned as a rush of excitement coursed through his veins. He had always loved it when Steve showed off his bossy side and, if the sudden twitch in his briefs was any indication, his cock seemed to love it too. Flexing his hips, he ground his bulge back against Stevie's palm and wiggled his brows before deciding to rile him up a little bit further. 

"Pants? What pants?" he asked coyly, looking around the room and feigning confusion. Bringing his attention back to the Adonis straddling his lap, Bucky didn't even attempt to hide the desire that was shining in his eyes as they ran over Stevie's body, intimate as a lover's caress. His gaze paused on the tight muscles of Steve's stomach and he took a moment to admire the way that they bunched and unbunched with each panting breath that escaped his Golden Boy's lips. Just below Stevie's belly button, a trail of shimmering champagne curls began, following the path made by the vee of his hips, until they dipped temptingly beneath the waistband of his jeans. Reaching out with one hand, Bucky skimmed his fingers over the downy soft trail and then brought his other hand up to meet the first, slowly unzipping Steve's jeans. Glancing back up, he held Stevie's gaze, unfastening the button with a flick of his thumb and lifting up both brows in mock surprise. "Oh! You mean these pants?"

A smile flickered at the corners of Stevie's mouth as he struggled not to laugh before he schooled his features back into a steely expression. His lips parted, no doubt to deliver a very stern reprimand, but whatever Steve had been planning to say, the words died on his lips as Bucky reached for his boxers, pulling them down and causing his cock to spring free. 

"Buuuck," he moaned, bracing himself with one palm curled around Bucky's firm bicep as his gaze was drawn down into their laps. Thrusting his hips forward, he watched, slack-jawed, as Bucky's hand tightened around his length and began to pump. A flush burst across his cheeks at the sight and his voice was hoarse as he murmured, "Fuck, that feels so good..."

"Mmm... that's exactly what I like to hear," came Bucky's quiet reply and, leaning in, he spread a trail of kisses up along the column of Stevie's throat, all the while grinding his hips in a relief-seeking rhythm beneath him. His voice was gentle, yet the command in it was clear when he softly nipped Steve on his shoulder and then quietly murmured, "Unfasten my belt and slacks, baby."

Steve was quick to nod his understanding, and although his hands were trembling as he struggled to maintain focus while Bucky's fist continued to work its magic, he eventually managed to comply with the request and released Bucky's prick from the confines of his briefs. Stevie's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he took in the sight of it standing tall and proud.

"Jesus, Buck," he murmured in awe. Reaching out, he stroked his fingers along the petal-soft skin of Bucky's shaft and groaned when he found that he was barely able to close them around it. "I thought that I remembered how big you were... I was so, so wrong."

Buck flushed under the praise, and his voice was barely audible as he hesitantly asked, "Is it okay?"

A chuckle of surprise bubbled up from Steve's chest at the question and he nodded, bringing his sparkling gaze up to meet with Bucky's worried one. As they watched each other, a soft smile spread across his lips, and he leaned in to press a kiss to Bucky's lips before his eyes were pulled back down and he continued admiring Bucky's cock. 

"Yes, honey," he said softly, completely transfixed as his hand slid down its length, pulling back its foreskin and revealing a glistening pink tip. "It's perfect." 

Relief flooded Bucky's gut and, smiling, he moved his hands to cup Stevie's ass before softly murmuring, "Good. Now wrap those arms and legs around me."

Steve barely had the time to do as he was asked before Bucky was standing up, lifting him off the couch as though he weighed nothing, and padding out of the living area towards the hallway which led to their bedrooms. A startled groan escaped Steve's lips as the seal of their bodies pressed so close together, combined with the swaying movement of Bucky's steps, resulted in their cocks rubbing back and forth against one another. Squeezing his legs even tighter around Bucky's hips, Steve moaned and ground his hips back and forth, causing the friction to intensify and Bucky to give his ass a rough smack. 

"You better quit teasing me like that, Scarecrow," Bucky warned hotly against his neck, "or else I'm going to pull those jeans down, turn you around, and fuck you right up against one of these walls."

"Promise?" Stevie mewled silkily, but he stilled and behaved all the same. Another biting slap to his backside and then Bucky was turning towards Steve's door and reaching out for the knob. 

"Wait!" Stevie suddenly protested, and Buck paused to meet his eyes. 

"What is it baby?" he murmured softly, concern evident in his eyes. 

"I want to make love to you in our old room."

And that's when it hit Bucky: this apartment wasn't similar to the one they'd shared before the war, it was the very same one. Updated and renovated, with a few walls knocked out, but one and the same. The realization nearly caused his knees to buckle and he was forced to gingerly lower Steve to the floor so that they wouldn't collapse out from underneath him altogether. Too stunned to do much of anything else, he took the hand that his Golden Boy was holding out to him and followed along in Steve's wake as he led the way towards Bucky's corner bedroom. 

When Steve opened the door, Bucky stepped in behind him and then pulled him to a stop. Glancing around, he took the familiar surroundings in with a new understanding. How he'd missed it before, Bucky would never know. His big brass bed, so similar to the one they'd shared in his dream, was even resting against the same wall. The foot of it faced one bank of windows, and the side he could now remember Stevie sleeping on was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights from the other. 

"How?" he whispered, looking back at Steve as tears filled his eyes. 

Stevie blushed, biting into his lower lip and turning bashful before he quietly replied, "Turns out there are benefits to having Tony owe you a favor or two."

A startled laugh burst free from Bucky's lips and, reaching out, he pulled Stevie into his arms, picking him up and spinning him in a circle as he peppered kisses over every inch of skin that he could reach.

"Steven Grant Rogers! You devious little scamp!" he chided, but there was nothing, save for adoration, in the tone of his voice. Coming to a standstill, Bucky gently ran his fingers through Stevie's hair, and his voice softened as he quietly wondered aloud, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know," Steve murmured softly. A grin lit up his face then and, palming Bucky's prick, he slowly began to back up, leading him towards the bed as he saucily teased, "But I can think of a thing or two that might make for a good start...."

Bucky moaned and, framing Stevie's face with his hands, he kissed him roughly as his Golden Boy came to a stop against the mattress and began frantically pushing down both pairs of their pants with shaking hands. As he felt the fabric drop and gather around his ankles, Bucky kicked free of his slacks and then shoved Stevie down onto the bed. Tugging his ankles free from the denim that surrounded them, Bucky tossed Steve's jeans to the floor and then pushed his calves apart, pressing behind Steve's knees until they bent up towards the ceiling.

"Pull your legs up Stevie," he ordered and then crawled up the bed until his hips were settled between Steve's parted thighs. Resting his metal hand beside Stevie's ribcage, Bucky wrapped his other one around both of their cocks and slowly began to thrust his hips back and forth. His breathing quickly became strained with the effort of attempting to hold himself back, and a thrill of adrenaline surged through his body when Stevie gripped onto his ass with both hands and began rutting more frantically beneath him. Acquiescing to his Golden Boy's desire, Bucky matched his pace and squeezed his hand tighter around their grinding pricks. Time gradually melted away as they rutted against one another, their lips and skin brushing together as desire weaved its way intricately around them.

"Oh fuuuck..." Stevie keened, thrashing his head back against the comforter and squirming as a tightening began in the pit of his stomach and quickly spread down to his testes. Groaning with pleasure, his voice hitched and then the words were spilling unbidden from his lips, "I'm gonna cum, Buck! Oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"That's it, baby... cum for me," Bucky murmured, grinning and quickly repositioning so that he was sitting up, kneeling between Stevie's thighs so he could enjoy the view as he continued to pump their cocks together. Reaching down with his now free hand, he softly pressed his fingers into the bunch of nerves at the base of Steve's prick before trailing his fingers along his tightened testes and gently beginning to tease Stevie's hole. Steve immediately gasped, his eyes widening as he squirmed against Bucky's touch and nodded his head frantically up and down. 

It was only two more strokes of his cock and then Bucky could feel Steve's shaft twitching against his palm and his own cock as streams of hot white cum came jetting out of its tip and Steve let out a roar of ecstasy. He greedily watched as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over Stevie, causing the initial shot of creamy fluid to splatter across the spasming muscles of his stomach, followed by a few shorter, pulsing bursts that flowed down Bucky's fist and onto both of their hardened cocks. 

"Good job, baby," he whispered and, leaning down, he planted a gentle kiss on Steve's lips with a smile. "Just like that."

"Buck?" Stevie murmured against his lips and Bucky pulled back to get a better look at his Golden Boy, pleased when he was met with a sated grin and cornflower eyes that blinked slowly with post-orgasmic bliss.

"Yes, baby?" he asked with a lazy smile.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected Steve to do or say next, but Bucky was taken pleasantly by surprise when Steve leaned in, ran his tongue over his lower lip just the way Buck liked, and grinned.

"I want to feel you inside of me. Now," he huskily demanded. Tightening his legs around Bucky's waist, Steve rolled over until he was straddling his thighs. Grabbing ahold of Bucky's cock, Steve smoothed his cum up and down its length until it was slick and glistening, then lifted his hips and moved into a position so that the head of Bucky's cock was pressed flush against his hole. 

But Bucky wrapped a hand around one of his hips, holding Stevie still, as he used the other to first tap his thigh and then point to the nightstand. 

"Why don't you grab the lube that's in there, stud?" 

Steve huffed impatiently but did as he was bid. Leaning over to pull the top drawer open, he flushed crimson as his eyes landed on the array of toys hiding in its depths, before locating the small clear bottle. Pulling it out, he slammed the drawer shut harder than he'd intended, his face flaming as he passed the bottle over to Buck. 

"See something you like?" Bucky teased, chuckling when Stevie bit into his lower lip and, glancing back in the direction of the taboo treasure trove, shyly nodded his head. "Good. Maybe we can play with some of those later."

Flicking open the bottle's lid, Bucky poured some of the silky liquid onto his fingers and rubbed them together, warming it before he reached between Stevie's thighs and spread the slick concoction over his hole. Massaging the tight little rosette, Bucky gradually dipped first one finger in, and when the tight ring of muscles finally began to relax, he slid in a second. Slowly drawing them in and out, he enjoyed every moan that slipped from between Stevie's pouty lips.

"Stop teasing me, Buck," Steve whimpered. "I need to feel you inside of me."

A groan tore from Bucky's throat at Stevie's words, and his self-control melted away at the thought of what his Golden Boy was going to feel like. Pulling his fingers free, Bucky added a small bead of liquid to the cum which Stevie had already slicked down his cock and lined its head up with Stevie's hole. 

"Jesus, baby. You're gorgeous," Bucky murmured as his eyes feasted on the sight of Steve poised above his cock, every tan-skinned, golden-haired, muscular inch of him. Wrapping his hands around Stevie's hips, he slowly guided them down, his voice hoarse as he whispered, "Gently, now. You set the pace."

He watched and groaned as Stevie lowered his hips, causing the head of his cock to first spread and then push into his tight little hole. 

"Fuck, baby!" Bucky rasped, gently flexing his hips and pressing another inch of his length up into his Golden Boy's depths. 

A moan tore from Stevie's throat and his breathing became erratic as pain flickered across his handsome face, causing Bucky to still immediately.

"Too much, too soon?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice as he reached up and gently stroked the flush which had spread across Stevie's cheeks. 

Steve stubbornly shook his head no, his brow furrowed adamantly, and attempted to put on a brave face. But the moment Bucky thrust his hips upwards again, a sharp intake of breath hissed from between his teeth and his eyes widened in panic as his entire body went rigid with tension. A tortured expression settled across his face and, letting out what was clearly a groan of frustration, Steve bit roughly into his lower lip and nodded as his eyes filled with tears. 

"I'm so sorry," he uttered, completely horrified. The anguish was clear in his voice as he anxiously pressed on, "I want you so badly, Buck! I can't believe this! I've dreamt about making love to you for years and now that we're here, my stupid body won't cooperate!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bucky cooed soothingly, sliding his hand up behind Stevie's neck and gently pulling him down to place a tender kiss upon his lips. Rubbing their noses together, he softly continued, "Your body is not stupid. Your body is wonderful and perfect. We just need to take things a little more slowly, give your body time to get reacquainted with mine. It's been a long time since I was inside of you, Scarecrow." 

He was grateful when Stevie nodded, seeming to relax upon hearing his words of encouragement. Leaning up, Bucky reclaimed his mouth in a lazy kiss, reached down between their bodies until his fist closed around Steve's thick cock and, slowly, he began to pump it up and down. Steve jerked with a start at the unexpected touch, but the tension quickly melted from his body and he moaned into Buck's mouth as pleasure moved in to take its place. Making sure to keep his own hips completely still, Bucky continued to stroke back and forth along the length of Stevie's prick, until it had hardened completely and precum began to leak down from its tip and onto his hand.

"Fuck, Buck..." Stevie moaned in stunned wonder as he gradually began to rock his hips back and forth, beginning to ride Bucky's rock-hard cock once again. 

Allowing himself only a few seconds to indulge in the feeling of Stevie's hot, tight hole as it slid up and down his length, Bucky was mindful not to become lost in the sensation. Closing his eyes, he pulled in a deep breath and took a few moments to forcibly quell the desire which was coursing through his veins before blinking them back open. Looking back up at his Golden Boy, who was currently writhing in pleasure, Bucky's lips tilted up into a smile. 

"That's it baby, " he murmured. "How does that feel?"

Rolling his thumb over the head of Stevie's cock as he continued to pump it, Bucky couldn't help but grin at the thready moan which burst free at his touch. Steve, seemingly unable to formulate a verbal response, simply closed his eyes, nodded, and began to bounce on his cock with a more frenetic urgency. 

"Careful," he urged with a moan, feeling Stevie's breath beginning to take on the same taxed pace that it had just before he'd hit his breaking point the last time. Closing his free hand around Stevie's hip, Bucky slowed his Golden Boy's pace and gently murmured, "Baby, why don't we give you a break?..."

Letting out a pouty groan, Stevie shook his head and attempted to remove Bucky's hand from his hip, rejecting the suggestion before Bucky had even finished his thought. 

_ So greedy,  _ Bucky thought with a smile, and he couldn't help but chuckle at Stevie's determination. Removing the hand he had wrapped around Stevie's cock, he instead placed it on Stevie's other hip and tightened his grip, effectively bringing his movements to a halt. 

"Buck!" Steve hissed, eyes snapping open and flashing with a challenge. "I don't want a break! I want you!"

"I want you too, Stevie," Bucky grinned and pulled him in for another kiss. Momentarily derailed, Steve melted down against him and curled his fingers into Bucky's hair. When their lips finally parted, Bucky smiled, stroked the tip of Stevie's nose and, giving one final thrust that caused Stevie to gasp, dropped his voice and suggestively murmured, "What I was trying to say before you so quickly refused me, is that we should give you a break... before I cum. How about instead, you take a turn at fucking me?"

Stevie stared down at him, wide-eyed, and unconsciously licked his lips as the idea took root.

"You want me to fuck you?" he murmured, searching Bucky's eyes as his breathing became shallow. 

"Desperately," came Buck's husky reply. "Would you like that, baby?"

Steve nodded, eyes glassy with desire, and he slowly tilted his hips up, causing both of them to let out a pair of matching moans as Bucky's cock slipped free from inside him. 

Leaning down, Steve roughly kissed Bucky and then quietly murmured against his lips, "Turn over for me."

Steve got off his lap so Bucky could do as he'd been told and reached across the bed for the bottle of lube. Pumping it over his cock, he watched with hungry eyes as Bucky flipped over onto his stomach and spread his legs. 

"That's it, handsome," he said, his voice husky as he moved between Buck's thighs and smoothed his slickened fingers around Buck's hole. "Up on your knees."

Bucky groaned and nodded, grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed and wrapping his arms around it for support before he presented his ass and raised it up into the air. 

"Jesus. You're fucking perfect, Buck," Steve said with quiet reverie. And without giving him a chance to respond, he lined up the head of his cock with Bucky's puckered rosette and gently thrust it inside of him. 

Bucky groaned as he did, his hole tightening around Steve's prick and drawing it deeper in. Wrapping his arms more securely around the pillow beneath him, he buried his face inside of it and cursed. 

"Fuuuck!" Stevie could hear his muffled cry and let out a thick moan of his own. 

He slowly began working his cock in and out of Buck's body, enjoying the way that Buck panted and groaned with each thrust of his hips. When he couldn't feel any further traces of resistance, Steve picked up the pace, thrilling at the tight, wet sensation that was produced as Bucky brought his ass back to meet each of his thrusts. He held tight to Buck's hips, digging his fingers into them and guiding them back and forth, as time slowly ticked by. Snow daintily swirled outside of their bedroom windows and inside all was quiet, save for the sharp staccato of their lovemaking and the desperate whimpering groans of Bucky as he writhed beneath Steve. 

"Mark me," Buck panted, turning his head and pleading Stevie with his eyes as he glanced back over his shoulder. 

Crying out, he dropped his head so that it was resting against his forearms, nodding in satisfaction as Steve slammed his hips forward and picked up speed, setting an exacting pace. Using long deep strokes, Steve pounded his cock in and out of Bucky's hole and pulled his palm back, bringing it roughly back down to smack one of the perfectly round cheeks of his ass. The resulting impact left behind a red welt that quickly formed on Buck's creamy skin, just the way he had been hoping for.

Instinctively, Bucky tightened his rosette around Steve's cock, a thrill rushing through his veins as Stevie pulled back more insistently on his hips with shaky hands and a strangled, "Yesss!"

"That's it," Bucky sighed, grabbing fists full of his comforter and balling it up in his hands. "Make me yours!"

"Yeah?" Steve replied, a tremor evident in his voice. Laying down on top of Buck, he straddled his hips and wrapped one arm tight around his waist, positioning the other over his shoulders and sinking his fingers into Bucky's hair. Pulling Buck's head back, Steve nuzzled his neck and softly bit into his shoulder as he slammed into him over and over. 

"Yeah," groaned Bucky, arching his hips back in a way that deepened each of Steve's strokes. "Ohhh... Oh fuck!.. Fuck, Stevie! Fill me with your cum!"

"Here it comes, baby," Steve murmured thickly, delighted by Buck's words as they caused an immediate tightening in the pit of his stomach. 

"Yes... Give it to me," Bucky whimpered. Steve's pace became frantic as a result and the room was quickly filled up with their moans. "God, Stevie... please... Yes! Oh, fuck yes!" 

"Buck!" Steve cried out as his climax slammed into him unexpectedly, his hips instinctively jerking back at the surprise.

"Nu-uh, Stevie! You're not going anywhere," Buck tsked breathily, reaching back behind himself and palming Steve's ass to keep him from pulling out. Holding him in place, Bucky flexed his hole and ground back against Stevie's pulsing cock, panting as he boldly demanded, "Not until you've given me every last drop."

Stevie moaned, but nodded, and continued pumping until he'd filled Bucky completely. 

Drawing on the very last shreds of his energy, he gingerly withdrew his cock from where it was buried and knelt above Buck, gently nudging and coaxing him into turning back over. Bucky happily complied and, in doing so, altered the positioning of their legs, making room so that Steve could sprawl out between his thighs. Panting and completely spent, Steve collapsed on top of Buck, kissing his shoulder and drawing in shaky breaths. 

Bucky smiled at the sated expression on his face and gently soothed his fingertips over Stevie's trembling skin. Finding his mouth, he kissed Steve hard, then pulled back and, with a devilish grin, slapped Steve's ass and quietly murmured, "My turn, Golden Boy."

As Stevie lay panting, too blissed out to give his body even half a chance of tensing up, Bucky wrapped an arm around his waist and quickly flipped their positions, coming to rest in a way so that it was now Steve who was sprawled out beneath him. This time there were no lingering traces of unease as Bucky first lined up the head of his prick and then gently stroked it back and forth against Stevie's eagerly waiting hole. As his hips thrust forward, his cock sank effortlessly into the heavenly warmth of Steve's body. 

"Oh my God, Stevie... you're so fucking tight!" Buck groaned. He nearly forgot how to breathe when his Golden Boy let out a contented little moan and hooked his legs so that they were wrapped around Buck's ass and thighs. Rolling his hips up and down, Stevie matched the pace that Bucky had set stroke-for-stroke, and it wasn't long before Buck could feel his own orgasm approaching.

"Fuck baby, you're going to make me cum," Bucky whimpered, nearly losing it as Stevie smiled up at him and squeezed tighter around his cock. 

"You like that, sexy?" Steve murmured, drawing Buck's attention down as he palmed his own cock and began to stroke it again. Buck nodded and groaned as he watched. 

_ Nothing is supposed to feel this good _ , he thought, panting. His muscles trembled as a familiar ache spread along the length of his prick and settled into his balls.  _ It's fucking obscene. _

"Cum for me, Buck!" Stevie begged, pulling him from his inner musings, and he couldn't hold back any longer. Even if the plea itself hadn't been enough to undo him, the image of Stevie jerking off just above where his own glistening cock was sliding fluidly in and out, certainly would have been. 

Bucky let out a gravelly moan through gritted teeth and slammed his hips forward, burying his prick to its hilt and beginning to cum. He was briefly paralyzed by the initial wave of pleasure, and it was only after the stars had cleared from his eyes that he could feel the kisses Steve was peppering against his shoulder as he softly stroked his hair. The tenderness of the gesture grounded him and helped Bucky to regain his composure. Gently rocking his hips, he leaned down and captured Stevie's lips as he wrapped his arms around his waist, tenderly continuing their lovemaking as he emptied himself completely. 

When the last of his energy had been depleted and he could barely move, let alone continue to hold himself up, Bucky collapsed back down onto the bed. Pulling Stevie over into his arms, he held him close and stole a kiss. 

"I love you, Stevie," he murmured, softly stroking Steve's downy-soft hair, and although it was clear that Steve was also exhausted, his face lit up at Bucky's words. 

"I love you too, Buck," he whispered quietly, curling up against Bucky's side. 

And wrapped in the comfort of each other's arms, as well as a happiness that neither of them had felt for over half a century, Bucky and Steve both fell into a deep and restful sleep.


	10. Yuletide Bliss

The morning was still, with fat white snowflakes gracefully floating down to the street outside, while inside there was a sense of peacefulness that blanketed Bucky as his eyes dozily fluttered open. Taking a moment to enjoy the perfect warmth that surrounded him under the down comforter, which he couldn't remember crawling beneath the night before, he yawned and stretched. 

He only realized the stretch of bed beside him was empty when, instead of soft skin and hard muscle, the only thing that brushed against his extremities were smooth linen sheets. Steve's absence immediately grabbed his attention and jolted him awake, prickling his skin and filling his chest with unease. 

_ Was last night just another dream? _ he wondered, overwhelmed by a sense of panic. Turning over to face the side of the bed that Stevie should have been in, comfort washed over him as he spotted the warm beam of light trailing out of the bathroom to fall across the foot of the bed. As his heartbeat slowed its frantic drumming, his ears picked up the soft whir of an electric toothbrush and his eyes were drawn towards the source of the sound. 

The sight which met his eyes had Bucky's cock immediately stirring and he smiled as he stole a few moments to admire the picture which Stevie created as he was framed by the doorway. Buck's eyes were drawn to the mop of golden hair atop Steve's head, still messy from his pillow and the thorough fucking which he'd gotten the night before. But it was the fluid movements of his shoulders and back as he stood before the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth and quietly humming, that drew Bucky's eyes further down his muscular frame. Which, to Bucky's extraordinary delight, was still completely nude. 

Slipping out of bed, he padded across the bedroom and stepped silently into the bathroom, sidling up behind his Golden Boy and snaking his arms around Stevie's middle. Leaning in, Bucky softly pulled Steve back, pressing their bodies together and lightly scattering kisses along Stevie's neck and shoulder. His breath was warm and tickled against Steve's skin as his lips brushed against the shell of his ear and he whispered, "If I tell you that I love your body, will you hold it against me?"

The cheesy pickup line made Stevie giggle, causing minty sweetness to froth at the corners of his mouth, dribbling down his chin and dripping onto his chest below. 

"You're terrible," he chided, spitting out the rest of his toothpaste and grabbing the washcloth from its ring beside the sink. Running it under some warm water, he rang the excess out and then mopped up the foamy mess, smiling at Bucky in the mirror as he did. Buck gave him a wink and returned his smile with a lopsided grin of his own. 

"You're still naked," he whispered huskily as he bit down softly on one of Stevie's earlobes and gave it a gentle tug.

"Mhmm," Steve murmured, dropping his head back onto Buck's shoulder and closing his eyes as he ground his ass backward. A smile played at his lips as he teased, "I can get dressed if you'd prefer me that way."

"You had better be nice," Bucky growled against his ear. Sliding one hand down Stevie's abs, Buck stroked his fingers along the underside of his growing cock before palming and beginning to work it with a taunt. "It might be Christmas, but I have it on good authority that Santa's not above doling out a good spanking  **or** finding better uses for naughty boys' smart mouths than pithy one-liners."

But there was no heat in his voice and Bucky couldn't help the smile which settled back upon his lips as he watched Stevie's reflection in the mirror; he was transfixed by the sight of him moaning and thrusting his hips forward, causing his cock to jerk into the bliss of Bucky's fist. Unable to think up a sassy reply, Steve simply moaned and turned his head, capturing Buck's lips in a sweet and slow peppermint kiss. 

The sensual brushing of their mouths only served to turn on Stevie further and Bucky was delighted when he turned around inside the circle of his arms, looking up from beneath long bronze lashes and shyly asking, "Any chance that Santa, or you, would like to help me get squeaky clean?"

And so it was, for the second morning in a row, that Bucky found himself kneeling down on the river stone floor of his shower as jets of thick white cum shot from his prick. Only this time it was with Stevie standing above him, looking like an Italian masterpiece come to life, as water streamed down his body and he fisted his hands into Bucky's slicked-back hair. Holding him in place, Steve guided his thick cock in and out of Buck's mouth until he couldn't hold back any longer, and letting out a guttural moan, he unloaded into his throat. When finally Stevie's shaft had stopped spasming, he loosened his grip on Bucky, releasing his mouth and gently stroking his hair. 

Completely spent, Steve sagged against the wall and, upon seeing his exhaustion, Buck pulled himself up from the floor and onto the stone bench. Holding his arms out, he first coaxed Stevie into his lap and then, once he was there, sealed their mouths together in a tender kiss. 

___

One nap, five hours, and an infinite number of kisses later, Buck and Steve found themselves back in the kitchen. The dining room table was set, the Christmas ham was roasting in the oven, a fresh pot of coffee was brewing, and Bucky was standing behind Stevie at the stove. 

With his arms wrapped around Stevie's middle, Bucky buried his face in his Golden boy's neck and inhaled deeply, breathing in the warm amber scent that clung to his hair and clothes. 

"You smell like me," he murmured happily, heart skipping a beat as he felt Stevie smiling against his cheek. 

"I had better," Stevie said cheerfully. "I have spent the better part of the day trapped beneath you as you've held me captive in bed."

"Mhmm... C'mon, Scarecrow. Nobody'll be here for another half an hour, at least," Bucky purred, his heart swelling with joy as he was suddenly overcome with the urge to drag Stevie away from the mulled cider that he was stirring, toss him over his shoulder, and carry him back to what he was already thinking of as their room. Suspecting Stevie might not take kindly to the wrinkles that such a manhandling was sure to produce, Bucky instead leaned in and trailed the tip of his tongue along the shell of Stevie's ear, lowering his voice and softly murmuring, "Come back to bed and give me a cuddle."

"Let's not pretend it's just a cuddle that you're after," Steve tutted with a chuckle, grinding his ass back against the bulge in Buck's jeans and drawing out a moan from him. It wasn't that Stevie wasn't tempted by his offer; rather, it was quite the opposite. He knew that if he did as Bucky asked, they'd both lose track of time, forget to answer the door, and before either of them knew it, every news station in the greater Tri-state area would be swarmed around outside their building filming as either Bruce or Thor broke down their front door in a frenzied panic. He could just see the headlines now:  **Captain America and Winter Soldier, Thought to be Missing, Instead Found Nude by the Incredible Hunk** . He chuckled at the thought, then placed the spoon he'd been holding onto its ceramic holder and turned around to face Buck. 

Wrapping his arms around Buck's shoulders, he smiled at the way Buck's hands immediately found his hips and Steve leaned in to give him a gentle kiss before softly saying, "But even if that is all you wanted, we don't have the time. You know how often Bruce and Nat arrive early."

As if to illustrate his point, the sound of their front door unlocking and swinging open was carried to them from down the hall. 

"I'm changing those fucking locks," Bucky grumbled, pulling him in closer before burying his nose back in Stevie's neck and giving it a nip.

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow," Steve said with a chuckle, leaning in to peck his sweetheart's temple before stepping away. But Buck's arms remained locked firmly in place and he pulled back only enough to move his lips from Steve's neck to his mouth, claiming it in a long slow kiss that stole his breath away with its intensity. 

Steve was so surprised and delighted by Bucky's open act of affection that he didn't even try to fight it, and rather than pulling away, he instead curled his fingers into Buck's silky hair, moaning softly into his mouth as their embrace deepened. If their friends didn't want a show then they should learn how to knock, he reasoned with himself.

"Yes!!!" Nat screeched, breaking the spell as she emerged from the hallway and into the kitchen, catching them red-handed—or rather, red-lipped. Dropping her bag of gifts on the kitchen island, she clapped and giggled as they finally broke apart, glancing over her shoulder at a smug-looking Clint and wagging one fuchsia-tipped finger at him. "I  **told** you!"

"Finally! It's about fucking time!" he chuckled, kicking off from where he'd come to rest against the doorjamb and moving into the room with a grin on his face. Walking around the island, he approached Bucky and Steve, throwing his arms around both of their necks and pulling them together into a tight hug. "It looks like you two worked things out."

"Hold on! Wait a second. What the hell is going on here?"

Occupying the doorway from which they'd just passed through stood Sam, staring wide-eyed at the scene which he and the others had just walked in on. Looking back and forth between him and Steve, Bucky could see the wheels as they turned in Sam's head, settling into place like the pieces of a puzzle.

"You're gay?" he asked, clearly stunned by the revelation. 

Stevie flushed, his brow furrowing, and Bucky instinctively rubbed his back, attempting to soothe the tension which had settled between his shoulder blades. Shifting uncomfortably, Steve took a deep breath, stared straight back at Sam, and firmly nodded his head.

"Huh," Sam murmured and then, looking at Bucky as though some great mystery had finally been solved, he smiled and teased, "No wonder you've always hated me. I'd be pissed too if I went away and came back thinking that some other guy was moving in on my girl. Especially if that guy was as devastatingly handsome as me."

"Excuse me?! I am not a girl!" Stevie seethed and beside him, Bucky couldn't help it as his own lips tilted up into a grin. Moving his hand down, Buck palmed Stevie's ass, gave it a light squeeze, and then approached Sam. Reaching out and extending his right hand, Bucky clapped their palms together and pulled Sam in for a hug, roughly patting Sam's back as Sam did the same to him. 

"Please," he scoffed, ribbing Sam playfully as he cockily teased him. "Like you ever stood a chance against me."

"Don't be mad!" Sam laughed. "Just because me and your boy are best friends."

"Um, hello!" Steve demanded as he walked up to them, both hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "I'm right here! Stop talking about me as though I'm not in the room."

"Sorry, baby," Buck mumbled, not looking nearly contrite enough as he tossed an arm around Steve's shoulders and pulled him in to place a kiss against his temple. 

"Yeah, Steve. Sorry," Sam agreed. The pair of them looked back at each other and, as soon as they made eye contact, they both burst into laughter. 

Offering to take Sam's coat to hang it up for him, Buck pressed another quick kiss to Steve's brow and then the two of them were wandering back towards the entry closet side-by-side, bantering playfully back and forth as though they'd never had a cross word for one another. Steve's jaw just about hit the floor. 

"What the hell just happened?" he wondered aloud, turning to look at Nat and Clint as they walked up beside him. 

"I think," Nat replied with a wry smile, "that your boyfriend and your best friend, just buried the hatchet."

"And not in each other's backs, like we all expected them to." Clint agreed with a twinkle in his eye. 

"Huh..." Steve said, and warmth filled his chest as the word  _ boyfriend _ bounced around in his mind.

"Huh, indeed." Clint and Nat both said at exactly the same time. 

And glancing around at each other, the three of them also began to chuckle.

The rest of the evening was filled with plenty of holiday cheer as their loved ones slowly trickled in, sharing in the merriment and mirth. Both Bucky and Steve were delighted by the reception they received as the rest of their friends showered them in congratulations and praise upon learning the news that Bucky had begun to get his memory back and he and Steve were officially a couple...again. 

All save for Peter, who upon hearing the news looked back and forth between the two and said, "Wait, is that supposed to be a surprise? Weren't you two a couple all along?"

And so it was that, as with all Christmas miracles, Bucky and Steve found themselves surrounded by all of the people whom they held most dear. At the end of one very long adventure and the beginning of another. 


End file.
